Speechless
by Amially
Summary: Continuation of "The Fourth Quarter Quell, Unprepared and Unfair." New characters, new arena, same evil, different legend. Unfinished, probably never going to be finished.
1. Chosen

**The Hunger Games is originally written by Suzanne Collins, under the publisher Scholastic Press.**

It's one of those days where sleeping is the greatest battle. I stare at my alarm clock, its 4:30, an hour and a half earlier than I'm used to getting up, but my body isn't screaming for rest.

No one can ever sleep on Reaping day.

My heart beat throbs at the thought of it, every year all the children across the Districts line up to see if they or their kin will be the ones set off to the Capitol this year. Some, in the richer Districts fear it less, for there is always someone willing to volunteer, but I'm not one of them. I'm from three and this is my last year, if I can make it through this, I'm done forever.

Or at least that's what they want you to think. Mattie, my sister, is 16; she still has a few years to go. If she ever gets reaped they might as well take me with her. I've never really had to deal with death, but even the thought of her light leaving the world makes me paralyzed.

I turn over, so I face her bed. Even in the early morning darkness, her white-blond hair stands out to my eyes, I can't make out the burns, but I know they're there. They'll never go away.

I roll back over, sighing in the warm, stuffy air. It's uncomfortable up here, I might as well go downstairs, my mother should be up, she can never sleep on Reaping day either.

Normally I would get dressed before going down, but I don't want to wake Mattie, so I slip out from under the covers and adjust my hair. Silently, I lower the stairs from our attic-bedroom and take care not to step on the one in the middle that squeaks.

I take a couple steps to test the floorboards, depending on the humidity they can moan as loud as a stray cat some mornings. To my joy, I can move without a sound, so I slip the stairs back up and tread around the corner to our living room.

It's a cramped room with a musty fabric couch on one end, opposite our large TV and my mother's reading chair and lamp. Just as I suspected she's already awake, legs crossed and nose buried in one of her ancient books.

I walk over and place my hand on her shoulder making her jump enough that her reading glasses slip off her nose. "Peth! Oh, you scared me, you're up early."

"Yeah, I thought I should come and visit with you," I smile and hold her hand. "Mattie's still sleeping."

"Good good, you should be sleeping too though, you know," she says, the sadness in her voice is nearly palpable.

I look into her deep, sympathetic eyes. My mother's always been too forgiving for her own good. When Mattie got burned she took the blame all upon herself and now wrinkles etch her face and hands as proof. The bottom of her lips start to wriggle downwards, but her eyes stay fixed with mine.

We don't need to say anything, we both understand each other's thoughts. This is my last year, but I also have the highest risk. I've tried not to focus on how many times my name is in there, but it's enough to be worried about.

I have the mandatory ones for my age, then 8 extra for Tesserae these past two years. Money is scarce now, but it wasn't always that way, medical bills sucked almost all of our savings, but they needed to be paid for. If taking Tesserae meant helping Mattie, I would take as much as I could.

Mother knows this and she's scared for me. Her slender body rests with too much room in her chair, she hasn't been eating enough, letting everyone else take their shares first. I wish I knew how to help her, what to say, but every time I open my mouth to express myself, she changes the subject.

Dad walks in, also startled by seeing me, usually I'm not a morning person. "Good morning, Peth."

"Good morning," I stand up, breaking the bond between and my mother and I's eyes. My father prefers we stand around him, thinks it makes us look stronger, tougher.

"You're up early."

I pause. "I couldn't sleep."

We have this same conversation on this day every year, the fear so prominent that no one knows how to react.

My mother lifts herself from her chair, clicking off her lamp and setting her book on the coffee table. "I'll get some breakfast ready, I got a couple special things for today."

"Thanks," my father mumbles his voice deep and worn, then takes a seat down on the couch, picking up the previous day's newspaper. I saw him read it from cover to cover yesterday, he probably just doesn't want to feel obligated to talk.

I sit, staring at the wall, tracing the cracked wallpaper with my eyes until the lines are too thin for my weak eyes to make out.

"You should go put your glasses on," my father had lowered his paper and faced me. "You're squinting."

I don't make eye contact with him, just watch out my peripheral vision. "They're upstairs, I don't want to wake up Mattie."

My father grunts in agreement then goes back to his paper. I hear mother slicing something in the kitchen and debate going in to offer my help, but decide she'll probably just want to be alone.

In a couple of minutes I recognise the familiar sound of the attic stairs closing and Mattie floats in the room. Her blond hair falls in a perfect wave behind her, resting at the small of her back. Freckles dot her petit button nose and dance around her auburn eyes.

She is, in a word, perfect. If sunshine were a person, it would be Mattie and even though the burns scarred her neck, chest and arms, no one could ever discount her beauty.

Smiling, she glides over to my father and I and places a kiss on either of our cheeks, then settles in at her usual spot between the two of us. She is the only person in our District who can still manage a smile on Reaping day.

"Where's mom?" she asks, tiliting her head slightly, accidentally showing off the bald patch at the back of her head.

"In the kitchen," I respond.

"Let's go see her, Peth!" Mattie squeals and drags me up, her hair grazing my cheek. Facially, we look the same, our noses, eyes, cheek bones, and lips all perfect matches, but Mattie picked up my mother's hair, while mine is dark and curly like my father's.

She leads me into the kitchen and hugs mother slowly, practically radiating light.

"Good morning, Mattie," my mother beams.

Mattie smiles and kisses her on the cheek, "Good morning to you too."

Mother turns to me, "Peth, honey, could you go get your father? Breakfast is ready," she spins back to Mattie. "I made the boy's favourite."

They talk some more about the meal as I go out and get my father.

"Breakfast's ready," I mumble.

He doesn't even bother to look up. "Alright, thanks."

All of a sudden a gasp sounds from the kitchen, his face jolts up, a look of terror crossing his features. We sprint into the kitchen to find mother trying to put out a flaming pan of unrecognisable food.

Mattie stands a couple feet away, motionless and staring at the fire, the flames dancing in her eyes. My father grabs my arm, concerned, then pushes past me, rushing over to mother.

I move towards Mattie, placing my hand on her shoulder. Already she has paled, her sunny outlook from this morning completely vanished. She whips her head around immediately, her face a mixture of fear, longing, and anger. I look in her eyes and gulp, her face relaxes. Pulling her with me I try to move her back into the living room, but she turns back towards the flames, face regaining that concerning expression.

"Come on Mattie… let's uh, go get ready for school…" I mumble, worried.

She turns back to me and nods slowly, barely moving her head at all. We walk out of the room and I lower the stairs for her, watching her climb robotically, clutching her burnt arm the entire time.

* * *

After getting ready, I help Mattie descend our apartment's stairs to the shop below. We've rented a small place above a store that sells TVs for two years. The owners are very nice and often come up with baked goods and even gave Mattie and I part-time jobs for a couple bucks an hour. Plus, they gave us our massive TV for free because it had a scratch on the screen and no one would buy it.

"We should go say hi to Mr. and Mrs. Percy," I tell Mattie and she nods, then follows me slowly into the shop, the bell hanging over the door jingling when I open it.

The 'vintage' TV on the counter is on, as it always is, tuned in to the only TV station we get. Rouge Pickering sits on stage across a very solemn looking Klara Hallen, last year's victor. I remember Klara's interview like the back of my hand. Halfway through they asked her about her dead ally/love interest and she went absolutely psycho, standing up and trying to run off stage. They cut to commercial break and when they came back she was sitting quietly like a small child who had just been scolded.

Now she has an obviously fake smile plastered across her lips and answered questions quietly, using only one word answers. Most of the time the victors get sucked into the Capitol's trends, getting surgically altered, but Klara looks more or less the same as she did before the games, except for her eyes, which look to belong to a cat, the pupils long and sharp.

"'Tell me honey, are you excited to be training a Tribute this year? It's quite an honor," Rouge asks her, a slight hostility in her voice.

Klara's answer is most certainly scripted. "Yes, thank you. It has been such an honor to be a part of the Hunger Games and be treated so well by the Capitol. I look forward to continuing my journey."

The crowd cheers and Rouge signs off, reminding everyone to tune in to the Reapings at 1p.m, Capitol Standard time. Some boneheaded reporter soon replaces her, chattering about how District 2 is furious about not having a winner for 6 years. I can't help but thinking about how we haven't had one in 9.

Mrs. Percy waddles around the corner, he solemn look lifted instantly as she recognizes Mattie and I. "Peth, Mattie, what a nice surprise!"

I smile and look behind me, Mattie is staring at her feet, stone solid, so I speak up. "Hello Mrs. Percy! I thought we should stop in on our way to school."

Her smile vanishes, as if she just remembered what today is, then I realise it's because her eyes are fixed on Mattie, who is now wandering in a circle, mumbling to herself. "Peth, could I, uh, talk to you in the back room for a second?"

"Sure," I respond and follow the overweight woman behind the counter.

She turns to face me, tears dancing in her aged eyes. "You take care today, Peth. You're a strong boy, watch out for her."

"I know, Mrs. Percy, I know."

"I wish Harold could be here... he's not feeling too great this morning..."

"That's okay, Mrs. Percy, I understand. Don't you worry, we'll be alright."

"It's your last year, isn't it?"

I pause before responding. "Yes."

Her bottom lip quivers. "You're a strong boy, it'll be okay."

I hug her slowly, her familiar, welcoming arms taking me in as they have so many times before.

Finally she speaks. "You better get going now, its awful how they make you go to school on a day like today."

"Thanks Mrs. Percy."

She smiles and I leave, holding Mattie's hand when we walk out the door. Our Reapings take place at 3, since we're on the East coast of Panem. We have to go to school until then, then are marched to the District's center to attend the Reaping. Everyone's very dressed up today because of this, but all the classes are very quiet, in fear of wondering which child will never return.

* * *

The hours of class pass tediously slowly. Now as we're being lead to the Reaping, not a sound is made. Even my girlfriend, Evangeline, who always has her opinion to share, doesn't say anything, just holds my hand and walks, like we do every year, making our way to the slaughter.

All across Panem, every child will be walking now, pulse throbbing and praying not to hear their name. Either that, or begging for it, for the chance to enter the games as careers.

We make it to the center of the District to see it totally done over. Cameras line all sides of the city's inner circle, surrounding the stage on the porch of the Justice Hall. Four chairs sit vacant on the stage, waiting to be filled with this year's Mentors, our representative from the Capitol, and the mayor. I do have to admit that I've never bothered with learning their names, feeling if I don't know them, then my chances of being picked will lessen.

Evangeline slows, making me pause along with her. "Go find your sister, I saw her this morning, she'll need you. I'll be fine, see you after the Reaping."

She kisses my cheek and walks off confidently, her dark blond hair swishing behind her. We've been going out or over a year. She's a smart girl, understands my family's troubles and knows how to help me through them. I could not find a better match.

Mattie isn't hard to find, her light blond hair and angelic aura always make her stand out. Today though, she seems faded, scared, but I still manage to track her down and grab hold of her hands.

I was hoping seeing her friends at school would elevate her out of her slump, but it doesn't have seemed to help. Every kid in the school knows her, she is the shining example of perfect and even though this has given her a lot of friends, it also makes many girls envious, no matter how much her kindness flows to them.

They must have said something to her, tears stain her cheeks and her eyes are foggy. She's normally not very fragile, but today, anything goes.

"Mattie, its time to go, okay," I try to be supportive.

She gulps.

"It's going to be alright, you know what to do, remember? Go stand with the girls, okay? You're going to be okay."

She turns and walks, no bounce in her step at all. Throughout the past years, she has been the one to look to at Reaping day, everyone around her brightened by her optimism on such even during such a horrible event.

But not today, it seems as if the world is working against me.

I go join the boys, watching Mattie the whole time. She stands behind a girl taller than her, blocking her view of the stage. She's smart that way, moderating herself when she knows she's in over her head.

The escort comes on the stage, followed by the past victors and our mayor. The crowd cheers and they go into a review of Panem's past. I know it off by heart, not only do we hear it every year on Reaping day, but its also drilled into our brains each morning at school. I keep my eyes fixed on Mattie, occasionally floating over to Evangeline, who stands tall and proud. That's another thing, she's tall, almost as tall as me, the only girl at our school who can nearly match my height. It makes her seem stronger and I appreciate it.

Our escort walks over to one of the Reaping bowls. Judging by the way the female side of the crowd has drawn in their breath, I assume it's the girl's.

_Not Mattie, not Eva, _my mind pleads and I let out a breath of relief when neither name is called.

"Tahoma Rider!"

I've never heard of her. She must go to one of the other District's school's. I look around, scanning the girls for her.

A circle forms around Mattie, the girls all moving away. _What?_

Then I see her, just a whisp of a girl, peeking her terrified head our from behind Mattie. She walks up to the stage, silent tears falling down her cheeks.

The escort addresses her. "Hello Tahoma."

"Hi," she has a tiny voice.

"How old are you?" They make every Tribute announce their age now, after a major uproar happened when a thirteen year old won, everyone had thought he was seventeen.

"Sixteen," she's small for her age. I don't think she'll make it, just another child, lost to the games.

I barely have time to prepair as our escort slithers to the other Reaping Ball. Taking a good look at our escort, I realize I'm not sure if they're male or female.

"Pethadrian Benson."

No, that's me. It can't be me.

It was my last year, this can't be happening.

I have to move, I have to go.

I walk, my feet moving without my control, hearing the whispers of the crowd around me as I make my way to the stage.

"That's that girl's brother... you know, the blonde one."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, that's got to be him."

I don't know how I feel. I had always told myself this would never happen to me.

But it did.

I go up the stairs slowly, a walk I'd never thought I'd make, to meet up with the escort. Close up, I realize he's a man, which is curious, because I had almost decided the opposite.

"Hello son, how old are you?"

"Eighteen."

"Wow! We've got an eighteen year old folks, these are sure going to turn out to be an interesting games for District Three!"

I shake hands with Tahoma, her palms sweaty and shaking.

Before they take me into the building I scan the crowd for Mattie, trying to get a look at her, check on her one last time.

But I can't find her, my sunshine has vanished.


	2. To the Slaughter

I wait in the room with no windows, mind spinning and fighting back tears. Usually I hardly ever cry, but today is a special circumstance, anyone would be expected to cry if they were in my position.

Horrid navy wallpaper lines the four walls of the room reflecting the light awkwardly into my eyes. Ancient hardwood floors squeak under my feet and the smell of must is overwhelming. This is the part of the games that no one sees, there's no need to make it pretty.

My mother steps in first, thanking the Peacekeeper standing guard outside my door, then runs over and wraps her arms around me, sobbing. She's been shorter than me for a few years, and now her head nestles into the base of my neck.

My father stalks in behind her, eyes puffy and bottom lip quivering. It suddenly occurs to me that I've never seen him cry, not even after the fire. He takes his place a few steps into the door and watches me, his eyes not daring to make contact with mine.

"Oh Peth… I'm so sorry," my mother whips her head up suddenly. "I'm going to make you cry, you shouldn't cry."

"I know mom," is all I can make out, every time I open my mouth, my stomach lurches threatening tears. Instead I rub my hand in slow circles on her back, tracing her concerningly prominent spine.

My father walks over and places his hand on her shoulder, looking me in the eyes for the first time. They're so different from all of ours, a light, almost white, blue. I always considered it cowardly how he always hesitates to make eye contact, but now I find myself pulling my eyes away, not strong enough to face him.

"This is all my fault," mother mumbles, her sobs and my newly soaked shirt muffling her words.

"No it's not," I console her. It's true, none of us could have controlled it if we could.

She backs away suddenly. "Yes it is, if I could just keep that job then you wouldn't have had to take any Tesserae…"

"Mom…"

She begins sobbing again, murmuring some things about how she ruined everything and losing me.

All of a sudden a new voice pipes in from across the room. "Mother, don't."

We all turn to Mattie, whose eyes are haunted more than sad. "If it's anyone's fault it's mine. I was so stupid, but I'm not even the one turning out to suffer. It's all so unfair, I ruined everything."

I gulp, even though I know she's wrong, it's a hard argument to fight. She made a mistake that was a key part in me having to put my names in extra times, but now I can't see how that matters, settling the blame wouldn't help me to survive.

I respond instantly. "Mattie, you stop it too. It doesn't matter whose fault it was, we did what we had to do. This is just our next challenge and it just turns out that… well… it'll probably be my last," I know I don't understand my words fully yet.

I'm scared, but not nearly as scared as I know I'm going to be. So far it all feels like a bad dream, one from which you wake up in relief of it's falseness and your whole day you're humble to the fact it wasn't real.

But this time it is real.

Mother sobs again and Mattie looks down. I still can't help but worrying about her, even though I'm going to be the one thrown into the arena. She's the type to cry when she steps on a snail and the fact that all I see in her is fear now makes me worried. How will she get along without me?

My father holds something out to me, his hands shaking. "We brought your glasses, we know you're allowed something from home in the arena and we figured they'd help."

I hadn't even thought about my glasses. Six years ago when I was twelve I decided I'd never wear them to the Reaping, just in case I did get picked and I'd look like a wimp. Now, being faced with the reality of it all, I take them from him. "Thanks, dad."

He embraces me, his long arms wrapping nearly twice around my slender figure and whispers a few things in my ear. "You're a strong boy, I raised you strong. You can do this, don't let them get to you, come home."

"I will dad, I promise."

My bottom lip starts to wiggle, so he pulls away. I feel regret in never really connecting with him the way I did my mother, but he built himself that way, strong and impenetrable. I always imagined when I grew up we'd connect better and he'd be the softie grandfather that cries at his grandkids' school plays. I don't know if I'll ever get to see that now.

The peacekeeper returns, looking angry and unsympathetic and pulls my mother and father out of the room. My mother sobs and cries out her love and my father nods, his first tear rolling down his cheek.

Mattie walks out on her own, eyes curiously aglow with the fire from this morning, but her last words send chills down my spine. "Kill them all."

The door clicks and I'm left alone again, standing in the center of the room by myself, pondering who will come in next. I don't have that many close friends at school, large crowds have always sort of got to me. There's my main group of guys, then a couple scattered people who I would smile at in the hall, but never expect to say goodbye to me before I'm sent to the Hunger Games.

Mr. and Mrs. Percy come in next. Mr. Percy looks dishevelled, his normally combed grey hair standing out in awkward angles. Mrs. Percy looks to have cried even more than my mother.

"Oh Peth," she cries and runs over to me, engulfing me again. "It's so unfair, you don't deserve this."

I honestly have no idea what to say. I don't think I deserve this either, but it's not about that, it's about who has their name in there the most times and I must have been pretty high on the list.

"Will you watch over her, Mattie?" I ask, voice shaking. Her fallout to all of this is uncertain, but based on how she was acting just now, I'm worried.

Mr. Percy speaks up. "Don't you worry about that, Peth. We'll keep them all in good hands. You just focus on getting home."

"I will, trust me."

Mrs. Percy makes and exaggerated noise as she blows her nose into her handkerchief.

"You've always been like a grandson to us Peth, you know that, don't you," Mr. Percy asks, tears flowing in his wrinkles like rivers.

"Yes, I know," they've been like grandparents to me too. My grandparents died young, so they're all I've ever had.

We stand and look at each other without words. This moment isn't something I'd ever prepared for and I'm not surprised that I'm finding it so hard to find something to say.

The same peacekeeper pops his head in again to rush them out of the room. Mr Percy faces me one last time. "You take care, son."

I nod and they disappear, quickly followed by three quiet boys who I know all too well to usually be anything but quiet.

Davis, Lark, and Ritten stand before me, looking at their feet and at a loss for words. They're who I would call my best friends, Davis being the closest. Me and him lived close together when my family lived in our previous house, so we knew each other like the back of our hands.

Finally I'm the first one to speak. "Sucks, huh?"

"You could say that again," Lark responds, him voice somber and weak.

"Those Capitol idiots," Ritten mumbles.

Davis is the only one to hold his head up when he speaks. "It's not fair."

Lark shakes his head and Ritten fixes his jacket. Usually I get annoyed with people like this, too shy to say anything or even look at you, but now I understand. I'm scared to look up too, crying is bad, but doing it in front of them would be just plain awful. I want them to remember and tell stores about me as strong, never hiding from death.

"Don't have too much fun without me," I mumble, desperate for conversation.

"Don't say that," Davis challenges.

"Davis, you know it's over, I don't have a chance," for the first time this really hits me. I would probably never be coming back, in a matter of days I would never see anyone again, just descend into who knows what.

"Don't say that," he bats back again.

I swallow, starting to get heated. "You've seen them, everyone's going to be bigger than me."

"Stop."

"I just hope it's quick…"

"Stop!"

I look up, shocked by his daring to fight with me now.

Ritten clears his throat. "He's right, if there's anything you'll need its confidence."

Lark nods, his ginger hair bouncing around him.

I pause. I'm not terribly strong, so I'll need some sort of hook to get people to remember me.

The peacekeeper interrupts my thoughts again, opening the door abruptly making all of us jump.

Davis nods to me, just like my father did. "We'll all be cheering for you."

The door clicks, resuming the silence and my friends are gone forever. That's all I'll get to say to them. It's not long before I get another visitor.

This person run over to me so quickly that I'm not even sure who it is, then I smell the familiar scent of vanilla and I'm certain of who came to visit me.

"Eva…"

"Peth I'm so sorry, it's all so awful, so wrong," she wimpers.

"It's okay."

Evangeline steps back, her blue irises glowing inside her red eyes. "No, it's not."

"You'll be fine without me."

"No I won't."

"I don't think you'll have a choice."

She frowns, wrinkles creasing her forehead and this time I bring her in, kissing her forehead softly, erasing any signs of misery. We stand together for a stretched moment, her crying into my shirt, shoulders shaking and camisole slipping off her shoulder.

Finally she pulls away, a pained look on her face. "Here, take this."

Her slender silver chain lies in her outstretched hand, a delicate shining cross resting at the center of it.

"Oh Eva, I can't, this was your mother's..."

She clasps her hand around mine, forcing it into my palm. "Take it. I want you to have it."

"Okay."

She nods. "Good."

"I love you."

Her brow wrinkles again. I know she's a sucker for sudden acts of romance, but I start to regret saying that, now it feels wrong.

"I love you too."

I nod. "Good."

"Peth…" her voice cracks again.

"I'll come home."

She pauses, tears still streaming rapidly down her high cheek bones. "You better."

"I will, for you."

The peacekeeper interrupts us, ripping Eva away, she cries out, then sobs and she's gone. I can't even hear her walk down the hallway.

I look at the necklace in my palm, then at my glasses in my other hand. I had completely forgotten about them when I promised to wear her necklace and now I have to choose.

Glasses were practical, they would give me long range sight, but this necklace might just hold my sanity. I undo the clasp and fasten the silver chain around my neck, it seems to be the important thing now.

The peacekeeper returns, a gruff expression on his face. "That's it, time to go."

I nod to him and set my glasses down on the floor, leaving the rest of my world with them.

* * *

Listening to our escort is possibly one of the most excruciating moments I've ever been through. People who try too hard have always struck a nerve with me and he pretty much tops the list of try-hards.

"Oh I'm just so excited for the Games, I've been waiting all year! Just think, soon you two will be stars across all of Panem! Oh and the train, I'm so excited for you to see it, it's just fabulous! Did I mention that once I escorted the tributes from 8? It was lovely they knew all about the trains, in fact, they even taught me some things!"

I zone out after that, mind still alive with the presence of my friends and family. Ritten reacted just as I expected him to, he's always been very quiet. Lark is louder, I suppose if I had to name a leader of our group it would be him, he's always coming up with ideas and things for us to try. Plus, he introduced me to Eva.

Davis has always been the one I'm closest with. We understand each other, even though our lives have been so different. He knows when I'm down even if I don't mention it. We never fight, for some reason everything just goes so well.

Evangeline will be okay without me. She's not closed off, I'm confident she'll find someone else, move on. She always thinks through things and gives people second chances, if I don't come back she'll find her path.

Mattie is really the only one up in the air. She will have to live with the pain of losing me forever, at least for me it will be over quickly. I don't want her to see me weak, or injured.

Suddenly I'm startled awake from my thoughts by Tahoma, who nudges my arm. "Crescent wants to know why there were so many whispers while you were walking to the stage."

_So that's his name._ Frankly I hate it, I hate him, him and his purple hair, bouncing and smiling, totally oblivious to the horror around him.

"I, uh… well I guess a lot of people just knew me from school," I stammer, not wanting to bring up Mattie.

Crescent looks impressed. "Ah, a ladies man, are you?"

I fake a laugh. "I guess so."

Mattie is famous across most of the District. She won sports competitions and math contests when she was younger, but really they all know her because of the burns. She was able to regain her good rep at our school afterwards, but for those who only recognise her from the police reports, she'll always be 'that girl.'

The car stops suddenly and Crescent lets out a feminine squeal. "We're here! Come, come, you're going to love it!"

I follow him out of the van, squinting my eyes in the sun. Before me is a shining, sleek, silver train and a massive mob of paparazzi. Crescent starts forward, so I following him, trying to hold my head high. Tahoma is beside me, hiding in my shadow so the cameras can't see her tears.

The small girl had cried all day and her light brown messy hair is tangled and moist. She clasps her hands in front of her and lets me push through the crowd. It feels horrible to think it, but I'll have to start measuring myself, making me look better than the other tributes, even this little girl.

Then one of the reporters jumps right in front of me. "Pethadrian! How is your sister reacting to your being reaped? Will she attempt another stunt like the fire?"

I clench my fists_, how do they know about that?_


	3. Competition

The heel of my hand breaks his nose before I can register what I'm doing. A crunch ricochets through the station that turns all the cameras and reporters my way.

_Oops. _

I glance around at the different camera crews, all too shocked for words, staring up at my face. Tahoma takes this as an instance to slip through the crowd, pushing past a stunned Crescent as she goes. Crescent, who was in the middle of an interview holds his mouth open agape, all traces of a smile gone from his face.

The man I punched stands a few paces away, groaning and holding his nose which is now dripping blood on the shiny floors.

Crescent glances at him then to me, pulls himself together and grabs my arm. "Time to go."

The whole crowd erupts at once, shouting countless things at me and shoving microphones at my face. Crescent controls them admirably, shoving through without a word.

When we finally burst through the crowd and on the train he lets out a sigh and adjusts his many ruffled skirts.

Tahoma is sitting on one of the couches, her hair finally pushed off her face, making all of her features visible. She has a long, pointed nose that splits off into eyebrows that are so blond that they're barely visible. She has long, bright red lips and a rather square jaw.

It terms of facial looks, the two of us could hardly be any more different. Some Districts have signature looks, like the outer districts being thin and starved and District two with their tanned skin and golden hair, but we were always wild cards, a mix of different skin colours and features.

"Well, that was certainly exciting, wasn't it?" Crescent pants. Apparently pushing through hoards of people in high heels and twelve layers off skirts takes a tremendous effort.

I glance down at my hands, still clenched. _How does the Capitol know about Mattie?_

It seems so strange, I never though what goes on in the Districts would ever be broadcast to any of them and maybe it isn't, but I can't think of any other reason why they would know about that night...

Suddenly two other people walk through the doors, shaking their heads in frustration, no doubt over the massive crowd still growing outside our train.

The man removes his hat and I recognise him instantly as Rio Stall, our latest Victor. He won nine years ago, so he should be in his mid-twenties. Suddenly it hits me, he's my mentor.

The woman is harder to name. She's much older than Rio, her veins prominent on her hands and wrinkles outlining her eyes and mouth. She swears under her breath as she walks in.

"God, what happened out there, someone chip a nail?" Rio grumbles, his voice low and hostile. I faintly remember his games, more so the celebrations afterwards. He was an expert in survival skills and outlasted most of the Tributes before killing three of the final five with only a rope and a dagger.

Crescent clears his throat. "No, but Pethadrian had a little scuffle with one of the reporters."

"It's Peth," I murmur, intimidated by the mentors.

Suddenly the woman bursts out laughing. "Peth!" she gestures over to Tahoma. "I thought you were Peth! What sort of name is Peth for a boy?"

"Now, now Puma," Crescent scolds. "Peth has just demonstrated quite the act of strength, I think it might get us some good publicity."

She snorts again. "Publicity? I've trained twenty-nine girls to each have 'promise' and you know what happened? They _all_ died, we're going to need a lot more than publicity."

"Puma…" Rio places his hand on her shoulder and she laughs again.

Puma turns to Tahoma and I. "Let me guess, _you_ have straight A's in school and _you _went camping once with your parents," she makes her voice a high falsetto. "And you plan to win the games for your darling little District three."

I have no idea what to say and it seems neither dies Rio. He sits down on a couch across from Tahoma and rests his head in his hands.

Puma continues. "Oh, and you think that everyone's gonna look at you because you're those smart kids from three, well newsflash, we're right in between two and four, we're the ones everyone skips over to get to the meat of the meal. They won't even know your names."

She breaks out into hysterical laughter again then leaves the room, right before a beeping sounds from speakers on every wall.

All of the faces in the room are solemn. If any of us had any confidence, Puma just did an effective job of crushing it. Tahoma starts crying again and Rio sighs, only Crescent and I remain standing, but he moves forward to take his seat.

"Pethadrian, you should sit down, that alarm means the trains about to leave," he muses, his voice drained of any spunk it had before. "They made the trains faster, so we'll be at the Capitol in three hours, but it is a little hard to stand when it first starts moving."

I nod and sit down on the far side of Rio's couch, hoping maybe I can talk to him about the games.

The train lurches forward suddenly, almost sending me sprawling onto the floor. Rio and Crescent look unaffected by this sudden jolt, having been through it so many times before, but Tahoma's eyes are wide in fear and her neck is pressed awkwardly into the cushion.

Rio notices this and tries to make me feel better. "Don't worry, you'll get used to it," he takes my hand and shakes it. "Rio Stall."

"Pethadrian Benson."

"I'm aware."

"Oh."

He laughs. "Don't worry, that's good, you'll have to be introducing yourself a lot the next little while."

Crescent turns to us. "And this is Tahoma Rider, don't worry, sweetheart, I'm sure Puma will be back soon."

Before I can stop myself I laugh, I don't think any of us want Puma to come back. All three glare at me and I compose myself, even if they are thinking the same thing I am, they're not showing it.

We all sit silently, getting used to the constant forward motion of the train. I pick at my fingernails nervously, the experience just starting to get real.

I just open my mouth to speak when Crescent glances at his watch and squeals. "Oh my! The Reapings are about to start! Rio, would you mind opening the hologram?"

Rio leans over the couch and presses a button. A mini television pops up in the middle of the coffee table, double-sided so people on either couch can watch.

Rouge Pickering sits on her classic rounded chair and introduces this year's games before the camera pans upwards to her giant screen and shots of the Reapings.

They start at District one, as they do every year, showing snapshots of the District to get a feel for it's 'character.' For District one, luxury items, they feature the gem mines, glittering and beautiful, then pan over some of the mansions.

The camera stops and zooms in on a stage in front of their District's equally as impressive Justice hall, where the mentors, mayor, and escort all sit.

The video skips over Panem's history and goes straight to the escort digging through the girls' fishbowl. She seems satisfied and pulls out a tag, but barely reads out the first syllable before a hand in the front row shoots up.

The girl floats to the stage, her district trademarked blonde hair breezing behind her. She gets on stage and they thrust a microphone to her elf-like face.

"Pixie Harlette, eighteen," she giggles even before they ask her.

I groan, who names their kid Pixie, even if they do look remarkably like one?

The crowd cheers and the escort stalks over to the other Reaping bowl. This time, a fight breaks out between two boys, punching and shoving each other until one triumphs and makes it to the stage.

The crowd's roaring is so loud that all I can make out is that his name is Silver. He looks my age and my height, except with way more muscle.

The two tributes shake hands and the screen cuts to District two, showing video after video of it's famed mountain.

Again, both Tributes volunteer. I didn't hear the girl's name, but noticed her thighs were the size of small tree trunks. The boy's name is Duke Marlin and he shook the girl's hand with such force that she winced.

The screen fades to black and Crescent squeals. "This is us!"

Our District pales in comparison to the past two. We have a few somewhat-scenic downtown areas that would seem cute to someone used to the wealth of the Capitol, but nothing exceedingly special. I start to think that Puma was right, we're the pause in the excitement between two and four.

Crescent calls Tahoma's name and she cries, walking slowly to the stage. I walk confidently, but nothing special, having just seen the two boys before me.

However, where the other two Districts had cut their feeds, ours keeps going. The screen shows a mob, I have to focus to make out my head next to Crescent's blue hair. The camera zooms in to get a close up of me punching the reporter, but to my glee the question he asked me about Mattie is inaudible.

The Capitol audience gasps and Rio looks shocked beside me. The cameras focus on my face one last time before switching to District Four.

_Maybe that was enough to get me some publicity. _

However, District four soon steals any attention from me. Not only is the scenery there amazing, but the Tributes are both very beautiful too. Maryn and Miquel are their names and the Captiol crowd sighs at the sight of them.

The rest of the reaping is rather uneventful. The boy from five named Ellis catches my eye, he has to pry off a younger brother as he makes his way towards the stage, I made quick note of him possibly being someone who I could align with.

Seven produces two very young-looking kids called Rose and Jarrin and the girl from eight, Celia White, has red hair down to her knees.

I snicker at District ten, both of their Tributes break out in tears before they reach the stage. The girl's name, Cue, makes me laugh even more. Thom, her partner is also 18, but wimpy looking.

The show ends with a close-up of each of our faces on stage and I'm suddenly very glad I didn't give in to crying. The Victor's anthem mixed with cheers from the crowd closes off the broadcast.

Rio turns the television off immediately and turns to me. "I have no idea what to say."

I stammer a couple pointless words, uncertain whether he's angry or impressed.

He laughs, finally, grabbing my hand and pulling it close to see it. "Did it hurt? Not him, but you?"

"Not really," I laugh with him.

"Well good for you, I'm sure he deserved it."

Puma bursts back through the door, food residue on her chin. "Well looks like you've got some guts, eh Pith?"

"It's Peth," I spit at her.

She laughs. "I've had so many kids come through here you should be glad I even try, _Path._"

I scowl at her, glad that I have Rio instead of her for a mentor. She walks back out of the room, sending Tahoma back into tears.

Crescent rubs her back in a way that I'm sure is meant to be sympathetic, but just turns out looking somewhat awkward.

The broadcast took up a long part of the trip and I imagine we must almost be there. Every year we see the Capitol over the television, but they say that it's much more impressive in person. It's an experience that I've always dreaded, not only because of what it would signify, but also just the thought of that many people all condensed together and completely unable to think for themselves.

Suddenly the windows black out and we begin to slow down, if I had ever had a chance of seeing the Capitol before I'm thrown into it, I just missed it. Rio stands up and begins to dress himself in his jacket and hat. All of a sudden I regret not having anything to cover my face, there would certainly be tons of reporters waiting to see me, because of my exciting boarding of the train.

The brakes squeak, deafening all of us. We jolt to a halt and Crescent pulls Tahoma and I up, our bodies shaking from the sudden lack of forward motion.

"Ready?!" He asks, smiling and bouncing with excitement.

I grunt yes and Tahoma nods, trying to compose herself. Puma returns again, still dishevelled and bitter, then opens the doors to the train, blinding me with the sudden bright light.

I squint and take a step from the train. People held back by barriers are all around me cheering my name.

Short people, tall people, men and women all reach for me, pleading for kisses, smiles, photos.

I'm dumbstruck, uncertain of what to do, until Rio bumps into me. "Do what I do," he whispers.

I watch as he stalks forward, chin up and smug looking. I stand up taller and try my best to mimic his arrogant stride, not stopping until I make it into the training center. Puma slams the door behind us, swearing again and grabbing Tahoma's hand.

I follow Rio and Crescent into a large hall divided by hanging sheets. Capitol people in uniforms wait inside each section, labelled with the numbers from one through twelve.

I roll my eyes, realizing what was going to come next.

I never much enjoyed dress-up.


	4. My Pleasure

I have to bite my tongue to stop from laughing at my sheepish prep team. I couldn't even hear their names because they mumbled them so much and were standing as far away from me as they possibly could. No doubt they're terrified of me since I punched that reporter at the train station.

Now two of them are mussing with my hair, while the other prods and pokes at my hand that I used to punch the reporter. I wonder if I should jerk it suddenly to scare him, but decide not to, I don't want to be too feared, but I do have to admit I enjoy watching them scurry around.

"I, uh, think you just bruised it…" he mumbles.

I try my best to pull off an arrogant, aggressive voice. "Wow, surprising, I thought I hit him harder than that."

He backs up immediately and even the two working on my hair step away. I laugh then yawn loudly, not bothering to cover my mouth. Apparently when you travel to the Capitol from District three, you go back in time four hours. It's only three o clock now, when usually it's six.

"Ugh, I'm starving, when do we eat?" I groan.

The smallest of the three steps forward, a girl with bright yellow hair and black eyes. "After the Tribute parade, since the train rides are so short now, they can fit the Reaping and the Parade all in one day."

"Joy, I can't wait," I say sarcastically. The girl steps back and I can see all of them physically shaking. I shake my head, pathetic, they don't even know me and they're so scared.

"You can go into the third room on the left at the end of the hall now," she speaks again. "Kandy will be with you soon."

I snort, Kandy was almost as stupid a name as Pixie. "Sounds like a _pleasure_," I sit up sharply and stalk down the hall, feeling the heavy gel in my hair crunch with every step. Maybe Kandy would be better, if she's a stylist she must have some guts.

I push aside the heavy door with tremendous force and turn to one of the room's many mirrors.

I jump when I see myself. My face is painted completely grey with all of my features outlined in solid black. Two bright red circles dot my cheeks like the blush on a cheaply made doll. My hair is slicked down to look like I hadn't showered in a week.

_What are they making me?_

Before I have a chance to sit down, Kandy walks in and for the second time today I find myself completely dumbfounded.

Kandy is a man and a burly one at that. I can't help but think of Crescent, who I had also thought was a woman at first glance.

Kandy has Black hair, quite similar to mine actually and large, hairy chest that's almost bursting through his fuchsia shirt. I roll my eyes; does everyone here have to be so ridiculous?

"Oh my goodness! Your. Hair. Is. Perfect," he squeals, using exaggerated hand gestures with every word. "I didn't know if I could count on those guys, but they just did great! I'll have to bring them back if you win, don't you think?"

Before I can snap back at him, he's behind me, feeling up my back.

"Um, excuse me…" I snap, suddenly extremely uncomfortable.

"Oh don't worry, I'm just sizing up your lower back muscles, you're lucky, I designed your costume for someone of your exact physicality!"

I groan, I never liked being touched, especially by strangers, even more so by men. All of a sudden he grabs my shoulders and whips me around so I face towards a concrete wall. Then, in a flash, he ties a blindfold around my eyes and giggles with glee.

"I don't want you peaking at your outfit!"

_Does he not have any common sense?_ By the way the prep team reacted to my fight, I would figure he would be at least a little scared, but he was toying around with me like a puppy.

After a very uncomfortable undressing-while-blindfolded session, I feel a loose, rough fabric body suit pulled all the way to my shoulders and zipped to my neck.

"How does it feel?" Kandy asks.

"How is it supposed to feel?" I snort, I had never worn anything so uncomfortable in my life. I'm sure that if I tried to sit down it would be impossible.

Kandy seems unaffected by my rudeness. "Well I'll take your blindfold off, we should head down soon, it's great to have the parade in the same day as the Reaping, but it sure does make everything rushed."

He unties the blindfold and turns me around to face the mirror, his hands flared out and mouth open in glee.

I roll my eyes, Ritten, Davis and Lark are going to get a kick out of this.

I am a robot. We don't even make humanoid robots anymore; they're just things of history texts from past wars. I guess some idiot from the Capitol like Kandy would think I would know all about them, being from District three, but really it's just luck. I did a report on humanoid robots last year, otherwise I would be as confused as I'm sure everyone from the Capitol is going to be.

I do have to admit that it's pretty convincing. If I hold my arm at a ninety degree angle I look almost as if I'm a machine, but that's not the effect I was hoping for. In the past some tributes have had fake fires or electricity that is simply amazing, but this would be nowhere near unique enough for anyone to remember me. If they had remembered my fight at the train station, now they would surely forget, I could hardly recognize myself.

"What do you think?" Kandy looks pleased with his work.

I groan, feeling too guilty to shoot down his pride and joy. "It's very unique," such a lie, I wouldn't even look at myself.

"Isn't it?! Oh, everyone's going to be watching you!" Kandy clasps his hands close to his face and smiles in a very cartoon-ish way. I smile back, trying to be supportive, he would be the last person I see before going into the arena and I don't think him hating me is going to help my attitude then.

Kandy leads me down the hall, practically skipping with pride in his 'beautiful' creation.

We make it to a wide room, with high ceilings where twelve sets of horses are lined up, a shiny black chariot behind each one. Most of the other Tributes are already here, waiting in their chariots, their stylists close by.

Kandy waves to a woman, shouting her name, which seems to be Idelle, then runs over, holding his hands up by his face as he runs.

There's no way I can run in this stupid outfit, so instead I walk stiffly and alone past chariots from twelve to four to where Tahoma is waiting silently.

The Tributes from twelve, eleven, ten, nine, and eight look even worse than I do and watch with jealous glares as I walk by. The tiny pair from seven, Rose and Jarrin, make convincing trees, their leaves beautiful and orange, falling silently from branches above them and regenerating when they hit the floor. I recognize Ellis from five, smaller than he looks on TV, glowing too bright to look at. His District is power, so I guess he's supposed to be the sun.

District four makes my stomach churn. Both look to be made of blue and green jewels, shimmering with every breath. I remember them already being beautiful at the Reaping and now they're simply breathtaking, even their faces shimmering.

When I pass them, though, I see their hands, clasped together tightly. As I creak beside them, Maryn turns to Miquel and kisses him slowly, practically making me gag.

Ever since some couple announced their love to the Capitol right before their games, then won together, at least every other year a couple's appeared, all mushy and soft. They get killed early almost every year, but occasionally they make it pretty far and one dies, sending the other into a fit of condemning misery.

Last year I wasn't really paying attention to anything, but the girl from our District teamed up with some lovers from Four and Seven and the girl from seven ended up winning in the end. I guess these two from Four are going to try to continue the luck of the lovers.

They sneer at me as a creak by, every step making my suit groan more and more. I mount the chariot and stop next to Tahoma, glad to be free of the effort of walking. Tahoma is dressed matching to me, her bulky suit baggy on her thin body.

On my side I can see Kandy talking with Idelle, a very tall, thin woman with a large, bird-like nose. I roll my eyes and turn back, facing towards the Tributes from one and two.

Their costumes make me even angrier. It seems that their stylists grouped together with the ones from Four, since they sport the same jeweled body suits in white for One and gold for Two that Four was wearing. Pixie's hair is now an unnatural hot pink and falls in long curls.

She's giggling.

_Ugh._

The horses pulling the District one chariot lurch forward suddenly, making the two Tributes' jewel-studded bodies shine. The crowd cheers instantly and the noise is only magnified when District Two makes its way out of the warehouse.

We emerge into the brightly lighted pathway, Capitol citizens on either side of us. They continue cheering for one and two, but don't get any louder when they see us as robots. I can tell when Maryn and Miquel have appeared because they start roaring even louder still.

I try waving to people but find no one looking at me, maybe Puma was right, we are just a pause between the best Districts.

It's hopeless, the Tribute parade would do nothing to help my publicity, so instead of trying to connect with the audience I lean against the side of the chariot, waiting for it to be over.

We loop around a tower while an ancient President Snow murmurs the history of Panem, I zone out, staring at Ellis' costume, seeing how long it takes before my eyes hurt too much and I have to turn away.

Eventually the horses enter another identical warehouse and we're allowed to get out. I march straight to one of the elevators without even glancing at the snickering Careers or offering to help Tahoma down. Kandy's probably supposed to be with me, but I don't care, all I want is food.

Unfortunately, right before my elevator's doors close, two shining teenagers slip in.

Maryn and Miquel, of course.

Mayrn starts laughing immediately, Miquel's hand around her waist the only thing keeping her from falling over. I roll my eyes, how awful can this day get?

They stare at me for my whole ride, whispering occasionally and laughing. I just look forward, waiting for the agonizing ride to be over. When the elevator finally reaches my floor I step out, releasing myself from their presence.

Before the doors close I can hear Miquel whisper in Maryn's ear. "See, I told you he was nothing to worry about."

I clench my fists for the second time today and whip around, ready to break another nose, even if it is strictly against the rules, but the doors have already shut, Miquel and his stupid outfit have disappeared.

Shaking with anger over Kandy's stupid costume I walk down a wide hall into a dining room where Puma and Rio sit at a table full of food. Puma bursts into hysterics when she sees me and Rio just stares, humor less visible in his eyes.

Suddenly I'm not so hungry.

I stalk into what I guess is my room, shed my stupid shell and lie in bed, not bothering to take off any makeup that might stain he satin pillow case.

One day, my whole life had changed so much in one day. Everything's starting to get real and it's anything but a pleasure.


	5. A Plan

I wake up and it's still dark out, just like every other morning. I flip over to check for Mattie's blond hair, but find nothing of the sort; instead a cream-coloured lamp sits in its place.

That's right, I'm in the Capitol, it's not a dream. I let out an involuntary groan as I sit up, my body's still not used to the Capitol's time change. I check the clock, it's only four am.

The lights dim on as I stand up, they must be motion-censored. My robot costume still lies in a heap on the floor, bent tot the point that it's unrecognizable. I see my room some more, it's rather small, with a couple of chairs and a dresser with at least fifteen drawers. Everything's in different tones of cream and yellow that look overly cheerful, considering the reason I'm here.

I glance down at my pillow, that was once white, but is now covered in grey and black smudges from my face paint for the parade. Something silver catches my eye.

Eva's necklace. I had forgotten all about it. Memories flood back, Eva and I sitting by the river, holding hands, saying goodbye for the last time…

I snatch the necklace up, it's all too painful to think about now. I just have to focus on finding some food. Without bothering to wash off any makeup I step out into the vacant hallway and tiptoe to the main room of our floor.

Avoxes stand by the table, TV, and couch, looking off into the distance silently.

I walk over to the closest boy. "Um, is there any way I can get some food?"

He nods and walks away silently, one of the girls going with him. Their shoes make no noise on the hard floors as they slip around the corner.

I sit down on the couch and turn on the television, curious as to whether or not the Capitol has more television channels than we do. The first station that comes on it recapping the Tributes Parade. They focus on almost all the Districts but ours, we were nothing special.

I sigh and change the channel; this station is showing a reporter interviewing random people on the street, asking what Tributes they're rooting for.

Most like Maryn and Miquel, of course, but surprisingly, Pixie also seems to be a hit with the crowd. A few people like Rose and Jarrin, probably just because they're young and as usual there's no mention of anyone from the outer Districts.

The last person they interview is a rather normal looking man, somewhere in his mid-thirties. He doesn't sport any of the classic Capitol outrageous style, in fact, I might have struck up a conversation with him if I had seen him on the street.

The reporter asks him who he's looking forward to watch.

He responds. "You know, normally I go for the career boys, but this year… I think I'm rooting for the boy from three."

The reporter looks shocked and speechless, stuttering trying to find words.

The man speaks again. "I think he has guts, if there's a dark horse in this year's games it's him. Plus, I think he's hiding something, there are secrets in his eyes."

He winks at the camera. I turn off the television. _What?_

He winked at me, not the camera, me. I didn't recognize him at all; he's just another Capitol citizen, waiting to watch me die, right?

The Avoxes appear behind me suddenly and silently, a steaming plate full of food in their hands. Fancy breads, fruit and spreads are piled on the platter, with a set of delicate silver cutlery for me to eat them with. They set down the tray and walk away, returning to their spots in the corners of the room.

I prod the fruits a bit, none of them are familiar to me, but eventually hunger gives in and I sample everything, going back for second bites of my favourites. On the far side of the tray is what looks like wrinkled, dried lettuce. I take a bite, finding it tastes too strongly like salt. I make note not to eat it again.

As I eat, I think about what's going to happen to me. I will be going into the games, this is real, I have to take it seriously. I had never even thought about killing a person before, even when I watched it happen televised every year. I always thought if I didn't think about it, I'd never have to deal with it, but look how that turned out for me.

I can't see long distance without my glasses and the only time I've ever held a knife is to slice tomatoes for dinner. I'm going to need a lot of training if I want to live.

As soon as I set the tray back down I hear a door shut down the hall and footsteps coming towards me. _Please not Crescent, please not Crescent_, I pray. I doubt that he would approve of me not yet washing off my face paint.

Rio rounds the corner and jumps when he sees me. "Peth! Oh my gosh, I didn't think you'd be up. What are you doing?"

"I couldn't sleep."

"Oh… I uh, understand," he sits down next to me. I feel the urge to slide over so he's not so close, but decide it would be incredibly rude. I sit silently and look down at my feet.

He pauses, then nods and my neck. "Who gave you that chain?"

I glance at my chest where Eva's necklace has slipped out from under my T-shirt. "Uh, my girlfriend."

"Ahhh, thought so," he nods again, then turns to me, a mischievous look on his face. "She hot?"

I laugh. "Yeah, I guess."

"Brunette?"

"No."

His eyes widen. "Ooh, blonde?"

"I guess you would say somewhere between," I say with a chuckle, still not looking at him.

"You're going to see her again, I'm going to make sure of it."

I turn to him. "How can you be so sure?"

"Because you have guts, don't care about what other people think."

I raise an eyebrow, I had hardly talked to Rio, how did he know so much about me? "How do you know that?"

"You know the room you slept in last night? Well, that was supposed to be Crescent's, you didn't even ask where you were supposed to go."

I laugh genuinely, I really didn't care, impressing anyone wasn't the first thought on my mind.

Rio smiles. "Ah, see, there's a laugh. It's always good to have a sense of humor."

I smile again, starting to feel better about my situation. "When do we start training?"

"Today."

My heart thumps, I was expecting at least a day before we started.

"Don't worry, I've got a plan," Rio says.

"What is it?"

"Well it all depends on your strengths, got any in particular?"

I pause, I had only been focusing on my weaknesses before and now it takes a while to conjure up what I'm good at. "Well, I'm a pretty good long distance runner, one of the best in my school actually."

Rio claps his hands together and lets out a cheer. "You just said exactly what I was hoping to hear. I've been waiting for a tribute like you."

"Like me?"

He ignores me and continues. "You've already got the intimidation factor, so most of the little guys are going to be scared of you because of the whole reporter thing. If you act really confident when you're training, they're all going to be too scared to come after you, they'll leave you alone."

"And how am I supposed to do that exactly?"

"Work out. Spend an hour each day at weapons training and survival skills, then pump weights for the rest. Make sure you pick someone to stare at while's you're doing it too, that'll really freak them out."

"What if someone wants to use the weights, though?"

"Let them do it and just watch them until they get uncomfortable and leave. It's fool-proof."

I think about this, it does sound like quite a good plan and I know I do have some hidden strength from lifting TVs and running, even if it doesn't look like it. I might be able to put on some muscle. "Oh, you should probably know that I can't see very far, I normally have glasses."

"That's okay, we can work with it. Just don't go to any weapon stations that need you to look far away and you should be fine. Eat by yourself, train by yourself, be that mysterious guy that no one really knows about."

It was really starting to make sense, if I could pull it off I could be a threat but not too much of a threat that everyone wants to kill me right away. Then I think of Ellis and how I had initially thought I might try to make an alliance with him. "What about alliances?"

Rio pauses, thinking. "Well, what do you think, could you kill someone you've made friends with?"

"No, probably not."

"Okay, so just stay away from people. If they try to talk to you just answer with single word comments and don't start a conversation with anyone."

I laugh, that shouldn't be too hard, it's pretty much how I already socialize. "What about… Tahoma?"

Rio sighs, sadness crossing his face. "I hate to say it, but she's not going to make it very far with someone like Puma coaching her. There's a reason our District hasn't had a female victor in so many years. There was an uproar when Puma won, some say she just got lucky and now I guess she expects that to happen to her Tributes too."

I look down, I feel bad for Tahoma, but this is survival of the fittest and she did cry at the Reapings.

Rio turns to me again, lips curled in a grin. "You should go take a shower before Crescent gets out here and sees you, trust me, he'll go on about how that paint compliments your eyebrows for an hour."

"Thanks," I laugh and stand up, a fresh beat of confidence coursing through me.

* * *

I ride the elevator down to the training floor with Tahoma. We're wearing matching skin-tight black jumpsuits which, to my pleasure, actually make me look a little fit.

The elevator dings and the doors open to a huge room, ropes crawling up and down the walls and dozens of stations scattered throughout it. I squint my eyes to search for any gym equipment and quickly find a set of machines and weights that look like exactly what I was hoping for.

A few Tributes are already here, both kids from twelve and Rose and Jarrin stand next to each other. Pixie and her District partner, Silver stand a couple feet apart, Pixie's hair still bright pink and radiating light. She catches Rose staring at it and shoots her a glare that sends the little girl cowering to the other side of the mob.

I walk confidently to the pack, leaving Tahoma behind and stand at the front of everyone, not bothering to look back at their reactions. A woman with blue hair that's very similar to Crescent's stands facing the incoming Tributes, a clipboard clasped in her hand.

All of a sudden I'm pushed to the side as another Tribute comes up to me. It's Miquel, with Maryn not far behind. Both put themselves right in front of me, Maryn's poofy black hair so huge that I can't see past her. _Whatever,_ I already knew what I was going to do anyways.

The woman introduces herself as Kinley Warren and explains training to us; I try to zone out, watching Ellis from my peripheral vision. He stands stone still at attention the entire time and I can't help but grunt at his eager demeanor.

When Kinely lets us leave I march straight over to the weights, testing them with my arms. To my surprise, I can lift most without any trouble and start pumping a pair that's just a few pounds short of the heaviest they have.

I scan the room for someone to focus on. I spot the girl from Eight, Celia White, looking lost trying to pick a station to go to and stare at her. Eventually she turns my way and sees me glaring then turns around quickly and scurries off to the fire-making station.

I could get used to this.

After a few minutes I switch to some machine that the instructor says will work on my leg muscles, so I let him adjust the amount of weight then search the room again.

Pixie is by herself at archery, a rather popular station, landing an arrow in each of the dummy's fingers and toes before hitting it directly where the heart would be. Mayrn and Miquel are playing with swords and the two from Two and Silver are all taking turns chucking axes.

The other tributes are fairly spaced out, working more at the survival skills than weapons. Occasionally one will go up to try knife throwing, or one of the other weapons, but walk away discouraged after a couple of minutes.

By the time it was 11:00, no one had come to ask to use the exercise equipment, so I leave to go try one of the other stations. I see little Cue from District Ten at the bug identification station, so I purposely go stand with her, taking in as much information as I can while still trying to make her scared of me.

Kinley calls us all out for lunch and I pile a plate full of meat and bread and go sit in the corner where I can face everyone else. Tahoma looks lost, but finally decides to sit in the middle or the room with Rose. The Careers all sit together, chatting and showing off their muscles, making rude comments about the food for the entire break period.

After a couple uneventful minutes, Kinley appears again, welcoming us to go back to training. I stand up immediately, not bothering to clear my plate and follow her into the room, getting looks from nearly every Tribute except the Careers. I plan to try the swords, then go back to working out until training's over, so that's how everyone will remember me.

The swords are massive, some reaching the same length as my arms with curved, pronged, and even serrated blades. Eventually I decide on a basic, silver number and start slicing at dummies, switching arms occasionally and rotating different types of swings.

The leader of the station suggests I try practicing with him, so he grabs a blade and stands across from me. In a couple of seconds he has me pinned, his sword to my neck and I scoff in anger with him for showing me up.

He lets me back up, warning I have to watch him feet and shows me some blocking moves. Soon I can stop all of his strikes and even land a couple mock ones of my own, before accidentally reaching out too far and slicing his arm open, spattering the floor with blood.

Guilt floors my cheeks, but I recover quickly, regaining my smug mask. I set my sword down and shrug, walking back to the weight training.

All of the tributes and trainers watch me make my way over and the boy from eleven who was in the middle of lifting weights sets them down and backs away. I can hear the trainer crying in pain behind me, but don't turn around, even though my heart screams too.

I hope I didn't hurt him too bad, but soon extinguish any merciful thoughts, I would have to get used to hurting people now.


	6. Role Reversal

Tahoma stares at the wall of the elevator as we rise back to level three for dinner. I noticed she spent most of the day following Rose around, but I never tried to intimidate her like I did some of the others. I don't try to talk to her, it's probably better if we don't get close to each other.

The elevator doors open to find Puma, Rio, Crescent, Kandy, and Idelle all sitting around a table, a piece of paper being passed back and forth between them. Kandy is the first to notice we've arrived and claps his hands in glee before running over. "Pethadrian, Tahoma, how was your first day of training?!"

"Kill anyone yet?" Puma growls from the corner. Rio simply turns to face us, eyebrows up and quizzical.

Tahoma gulps and looks down at her feet, tears dancing in her eyes again.

Puma laughs ominously. "I'll take that as a yes. So Pith, who was it, another Tribute, the president?"

"Puma!" Crescent snaps, suddenly standing.

I clear my throat and use my deep, arrogant voice that I had planned to match with my cocky actions. "Not quite, just slashed one of the trainer's arms while I was practicing with him."

Puma seems impressed. "Not bad, just be careful, you don't want to steal the spotlight from the careers."

"She's right," Rio chimes in. "You don't want them coming after you."

All of a sudden a loud thumping and a crash sounds from the floor above us, followed by a woman's high-pitched yell and a slammed door. We all stand awkwardly, District four is above us and I sensed before that Miquel seemed to have a temper.

Finally Crescent stands up. "How about you and Tahoma go get dressed for dinner, Peth?"

"What room should I go to?" I ask tentatively.

"The same one as you did last night," he responds. "They cleaned out my things, so you can keep it."

Without a word I walk down the hall, turning into the first door on the right. The room has been cleaned completely, the stained bed sheets replaced with new, white ones. My robot costume has completely disappeared, so I take off my training uniform, leaving it roughly in the same place I did my costume.

I take a long shower, the warm water soothing on my sore muscles. Looking at the set of buttons embedded in the shower wall, I locate one called 'muscle relaxant' and sigh as the think cream pours over me. When I get out I wrap a towel around myself and leave the bathroom to go find something to wear.

Rio sits on my bed, eyebrows furrowed, clearly irritated. "What happened today?"

I jump, surprised by sudden appearance. "Um, well you told me to work out a lot so I did that, but I tried some insect-safety and sword fighting too."

"That's not what I mean."

I pause, knowing exactly what he means. "I just cut his arm, he'll live."

"Who saw you?"

"Everyone."

He sighs, holding his head in his hands. "There's a fine line between confident and cocky."

"It was an accident," I mumble, disappointed in myself.

"I know, but you have to be careful, I don't like that boy from One, I don't think you want him to be on your bad side, or your good side for that matter."

"Silver?" I hadn't even considered him, mostly I had been focusing on Maryn and Miquel.

"Yeah, I feel like he has a very controlling nature about him, but not up front. Listen carefully to what the Tributes are saying, I bet a lot of it is fueled by him."

"But I haven't heard him talk at all…"

"I've seen the way he looks at you, you stole his strategy."

"I understand, but what am I supposed to do about it, ditch my plans?" I ask.

"No, keep up the same plan, just tone it down a little, and don't stand at the front of the crowd. Show off to the little guys, not to the big ones. He's strong from training, but there's something about the way he watches you that I just don't like."

I nod, heart thumping. I know I'm treading on shaky ground, one wrong step and I will die. "Can I get dressed now?"

He stands. "Sure, I just wanted to say something away from everyone else."

"Okay."

He leaves the room, shutting the door silently. I can't move, but my hands are shaking.

* * *

I have more drinks than I probably should for dinner and to my dismay, so does Crescent. We're having some sort of fish with a salty sauce. I don't like it very much, but the wine helps.

"Peth, did I ever tell you how much I like your eyebrows?" Crescent slurs, a cherry tomato rolling off his fork. Rio gives me an 'I-told-you-so' look and Puma snorts, amused.

"No, I don't think you did."

He seems shocked by this, raising his bony hands into the air. "Well, they are just wonderful! Are they naturally that thick? Don't worry, the ladies love it, actually I was thinking of getting mine thickened before the interviews, how do you think it'd make me look?"

"Like a catfish," Puma mumbles, beside herself in laughter. Rio spits his drink across the table, quickly dabbing at his mouth and apologizing Kandy seems to be on Crescent's side, turning his head to take in his face from different angles. Idelle nods, confirming that it would be a nice change.

I just look down and finish my dinner quickly, then excuse myself, saying I'm tired from training all day. I can't help but notice Tahoma watching me walk out the door the whole time.

* * *

The next day starts very similar to the last. I wake up early and go out to get myself food before anyone's up so I can shower during breakfast and don't have to deal with a hung-over Crescent. The same Avoxes bring me the same meal, it's comforting to have something in routine.

Slipping into my uniform is more difficult than it was the last day. I'm sore from working out, but I'm sure it would be a lot worse had I not used that special cream in the shower.

Apparently I'm late, because when I go out into the main room, Tahoma is nowhere to be seen. Rio tells me she already went down to the training, so I ride the elevator by myself and emerge into a room, halfway through Kinley's speech.

So much for keeping a low profile.

I walk over, pretending not to notice the fact that they're all staring and stand at the back of the group, behind the girl from Twelve. Kinley continues talking while I scan around the room for my trainer from yesterday, who I accidentally sliced up, but I can't find him anywhere.

She lets us go and the crowd scatters, seemingly already certain of where they're going. I follow a couple of them to the snare station so that I don't stand out too much. It's only when I get there that I realize it's Tahoma and Rose that I've followed.

They work together to tie something that ends up snapping before it can work and I learn a couple of different small animal traps. After a couple of minutes they leave, discouraged and travel on to try out slingshots, so I check out which station I can go to next.

The boys from nine and eleven are at the gym equipment, but all of the careers seem too absorbed in their weapons to notice if I were to go work out, so I walk over.

The boy from Eleven is lifting weights half as heavy as mine were, so I stand on his mat and pick up a heavier pair. After a couple of pumps, he blushes and sets his down, then walks away quickly. I smirk, I had never thought myself so intimidating before.

The boy from Nine sticks around for a while, but leaves eventually after I glance at him a couple times. I spend the rest of the time trying out different machines that focus on each part of my body until I'm thoroughly sore.

At lunch I eat by myself, taking care to face away from any careers and look down at my plate. I wait for a couple people to leave before clearing my mess and going back to training.

I start out at axes, then swap to hand to hand combat. I'm okay at both, but not as good as I was with the swords, so at the end of the day I go back there, taking care not to hurt anyone or make too much of a scene.

After training I ride the elevator alone and tell Rio what happened, ignoring Puma's snapping. Crescent tells me that Kandy and Idelle are working on our interview outfits, so they won't be joining us for dinner. I have to hold my tongue not to cheer out loud.

Dinner is beef, served with potatoes and cheese sauce, it's really decadent so I try to stay away from most of the cheese. Most of the conversation revolves around the dinner, so I don't have to talk very much. A couple of times Rio tries to get Tahoma talking, but she directs the attention away. Puma never talks to her.

We go to bed early and I fall asleep to the sound of Puma pacing in her room beside mine.

* * *

Rio wakes me up what I can only guess is earlier than usual by walking straight into my room.

"You're lucky I sleep with clothes on," I groan, rubbing my eyes.

His face remains stern. "No joking, you have a decision to make."

"I do?"

"It's the last day of training, what are you going to do for your one-on-one session?"

I stop before thinking, going over the past days in my mind. "Well I'm pretty good with swords…"

His face crumples up. "Swords are the type of weapons that it's easy to think you're good with, you should practice again today just to make sure."

I can't help but feel somewhat angry. How would he know if I was good with swords or not? He leaves, shutting the door quietly, so I get into my morning routine, avoiding breakfast again.

Kinley doesn't give us a speech at the training center this morning, but I still arrive to a rather unwelcome sight.

Silver sits at the gym equipment staring at me and watching as I move across the room. I look down quickly, feeling my face turn red. Naturally I turn to the sword station, but find Duke, the boy from Two, and Miquel practicing there.

Scanning the room for another station I see Pixie skipping over to the axes, laughing and twirling like a freak as she goes. Maryn stands behind Miquel, smiling and complimenting him.

I panic. I walk over to the bow and arrows. I can't even see the targets.

Uh oh.

For a solid hour, none of the stations free up, so I ask the instructor at the bow and arrow station as many questions as I can before he physically forces a bow into my arms and makes me shoot. I miss the target fifteen times, feeling Silver's eyes boring into the back of my skull every time the arrow whizzes by.

I thank the instructor and walk away, not bothering to look up to see Silver who's surely still watching me. Eventually I realize I'm walking over to the fire-starting station and turn again, suddenly shaking. My skin goes cold, bad memories threatening to claw their way back to the surface. A scream, my own fear, my mother's tears are like a hammer against my chest.

_Deep breaths, small steps. It's over, it can't hurt you here._

Finally I land at the tree-climbing station and spend all the time until lunch there. I make it to the top of the course multiple times, but do it again, at least it's some form of a work-out. My mind clears and hands stop shaking, I can breathe again.

At lunch I sit by myself at the head of one of the tables before any of the careers have seated. I didn't even recognize the food I was selecting, just piled it on my plate and focused on finding a place to sit down.

All of a sudden I look up to meet a pair of blue eyes staring at me from across the room. All of the careers, except Pixie, sit at the opposite end of my long table with Silver at the head, watching me. I look back down and don't look up again afraid of what I'll see.

They leave immediately after lunch is over in their group, moving without a hurry towards the gym equipment. Each takes their place and stays there for the rest of the day. I rotate between survival skills, too shaken to even suggest a glance at the swords.


	7. Payback

I have to sit in between the girl from Two, who has legs the size of tree trunks, and Tahoma while we all wait for our turn for individual training. It's unnerving to be so close to Silver, Duke, Miquel and Maryn, but at least I don't have to worry about making eye contact with them, since they're on either side of me.

My row of Tributes faces across from all the kids from District Seven to Twelve, so I try to sit up straight and look smug in an attempt not to look weak compared to all the major threats I'm surrounded by. They call Silver and he glides silently into the training room, the door not even clicking when it shuts.

After a couple of minutes, the Gamemakers roar and Silver reappears, his footsteps just as quiet as when he went in. His grin stretches from ear-to-ear as he struts out of the room, nodding to the other careers, then shooting a subtle glare at me. My heart starts racing, I must have really ticked him off.

As soon as they call Pixie's name, she shoots up, her hair blowing into Dukes face, and skips in, humming some eerie song. I just notice now that she's not wearing any shoes. Her session is shorter than Silver's and she comes sprinting through the doors when she's done, laughing. I can see every other tribute rolling their eyes at her; it's good to know I'm not the only one who finds her nauseating.

I prepare myself while the two tributes from District Two are in there. I'll go to swords and chop up a couple dummies, then maybe lift a couple of weights just to show them how strong I am. When they call my name, I'm ready and stalk through the doors.

A group of Gamemakers waits patiently in the viewing area above, so I introduce myself and the head of the Gamemakers, Heron McOnell, nods to me.

I turn around to move towards the swords, but my feet grind to a halt. The sword station is a total mess, shattered pieces of steel lay everywhere, the Dummies are destroyed and there are no swords waiting on the racks. Someone was using those swords and they weren't playing very nice.

My face flares up instantly, _so that was Silver's plan._ All of the Careers must have grouped together and decided to show off their sword skills -to the point that they broke all of them. I gulp, there was no other station that I really practiced, I have no other outstanding talents I can show off. Silver is smart, he might have just destroyed all of my chances to get sponsors.

I look around frantically, there's the axe station, hand-to-hand combat, and long-range weapons. All of those are guaranteed to get you a good score, that is if you're good at them, but to my dismay, I'm not. The gym equipment would be sure to get me a poor score if that's all I did and survival skills aren't going to get me a number that will impress the audiences.

My hands are shaking, but I make it to the axes, where I find the most slender one, hoping I can treat it somewhat like a sword. Unfortunately, the weight's way off and I only make a few thin slashes on the dummies that wouldn't even be deadly in the arena.

After a few minutes, the Gamemakers' expressions have turned to boredom, so I jog over to the weight equipment and lift a couple dumbbells. One of the careers must have shown off here too, because I only get a couple of pumps in before Heron yawns and tells me I can leave.

I walk out without looking up at them, disappointed in myself for ruining one of my only chances to make a name for myself. As I step through the doors, they call Tahoma and she's waiting quietly for me to exit. I let her past and head towards the door out of the room, keeping my head down so the others can't see my disappointment in myself.

But someone notices.

"Things not go as planned, Pith?" Miquel laughs, his hand wrapped around Maryn's toned waist. She laughs with him and pecks him on the cheek before glaring at me. All of the other Tributes stare at me, so I turn away, at a loss for any good comebacks. They did all plan it together, break all the swords just to sabotage me.

As I walk out of the room I can hear them giggling to themselves, disturbingly proud of how they might have just made the move that could lead to my death.

* * *

The training scores come in later that night. Rio tries to ask me what happened, but I tell him he'll see when they display the scores, still angry with myself.

Silver gets an eleven, not a big shocker, considering how many dummies –and swords- he destroyed. To my surprize, Pixie pulls a 10, I had always though her to be somewhat of a dits with more bark than bite. Duke gets a 9 and his partner gets a 10, again, not a shock.

Now it's my turn. What will they give me, a four, a seven? It has to be something in that range, I wasn't very impressive. Although I'm sure I wasn't the worst, compared to those starved kids from the outer Districts.

What will Mattie think? Will she cry, worried about what it will mean? People with low scores never win, in fact, most of them get killed at the initial bloodbath. Eva will be disappointed, but she won't lose hope. People around school will spread rumors and laugh at how lame I am, but she'll defend me. Maybe her, Ritten, Davis, and Lark will all stick together, too afraid to face the questions from the kids at school by themselves.

I take a deep breath, they say my name.

Six.

My heart drops, if I had been able to use the swords I could have gotten at least an eight. No one's going to root for me now. They'll skip over my interview, nothing I can do is going to bring me out of this hole, I'll just be another nameless kid killed in the games.

The tension in the room is palpable. Rio hangs his head, you could tell he had hope for me, win the games and take over his job as a mentor so that he could finally retire. Clueless Crescent sits quietly, his smile vanished from his face. Even Puma, who always has something to say is stunned.

We're all thinking the same thing, I am going to die.

Tahoma gets a seven, an impressive score for someone of her size. Crescent, Rio and Puma all congratulate her quietly. It's a good score , but not very good. District Three is not very special this year.

I don't want to hear Maryn and Miquel's scores, but Crescent turns up the TV for some reason. Both get an eleven and we can actually hear them screaming and jumping in glee above us. Ellis from five gets an eight, a pretty high score and his District partner gets something insignificant.

All the other Tributes get their scores, then they display all of us in order of highest score to lowest. The highest are Silver, Maryn and Miquel and the lowest is Celia White from eight. I'm in sixteenth place, right after Tahoma and before Rose. Even some of the outer Districts get better scores than me, Silver must be proud of himself.

We had dinner before the scores aired, so I just walk out of the room and take a shower before going to bed. Tomorrow I'll have my interview, so I have to practice being social in the morning. To my surprise I fall asleep pretty quickly, my pillow lined with my tears of disappointment.

* * *

I know that Rio has let me sleep in the moment my eyes open. The sun is already up and shining directly in my room through my window. I take my time getting up, the reality of my awful training score and what it could entail gradually coming back to me.

When I step out of the door and look down the hall I can see Rio waiting, sitting on the couch that faces my room. A deep, growl-like voice resonates from the room across from me, it must be where Tahoma and Puma are practicing.

Rio comes quickly to my room and gestures me inside, shutting the door noiselessly behind himself. "I didn't think you'd want to have to tell Puma or Crescent what happened, so I let you sleep in until they were gone."

"Thanks, yeah I don't really feel like talk to them right now," I mumble, the previous night's gloom still hanging on my voice.

"I know you don't want to, but you have to tell me what happened yesterday."

I take a deep breath then speak. "The Careers, they took over the gym equipment and sword station all day, so I couldn't practice, then they broke all the swords in their private training. I had to use axes, it was terrible."

Rio's eyes are wide, shocked. "Do you think it was Silver?"

"It had to be, none of the others seemed too insulted by me."

He nods slowly, taking it all in. "I know it seems hopeless, but you still have a chance with your interview, we just have to figure out the right angle to play."

"There's no hope, Puma said it before, we're the District they skip over. Tahoma has a better chance of winning than I do now."

"But no one expected you to get such a low score," he says. "They'll want an explanation."

"But I can't share what I did in my private session."

"No, but you can target the other Tributes. Silver hates you now, nothing you say is going to change that, so you can fire back. Listen close to his interview and reference it subtly, make him look like a cheater, turn the Capitol against him."

I can't look into his eyes, knowing that they'll have that same supportive look they always do. I'm frustrated with being so angry at myself, while Rio just blows it off. It's not his life he's playing with.

"I'll try," I murmur.

He smiles at me. "Good! So just keep up the cocky act and shoot down everyone else. There's an audience for Tributes like that."

We do a couple of practice questions before Kandy comes in with my outfit. Rio winks to me and leaves the room, leaving me alone with my stylist.

Kandy unzips the bag he brought in and I close my eyes, shaking with nerves over what he could have me dressed up as.

"Well you can open your eyes now," he says. I turn around to see a black suit, black shirt a red tie.

"Wow, that's uh, not what I expected…" my mouth is gaping. It's better than what I expected, I would actually look… normal.

Kandy claps his hands together and hands me the outfit. "Go put it on, then!"

I go into the bathroom and change quickly. The whole outfit is very flattering, I look tall and muscular and most of all, mysterious. Everyone else is sure to be all doled up, I'll stand out for looking simple.

When I come back out of the room, Kandy almost faints. "It's wonderful!" he cries, holding the bed for support.

"Thank you Kandy, really, this is going to help a lot," I say sincerely.

"Oh don't thank me Peth, it's my job," he winks at me. "Now let's get you downstairs!"

He escorts me to the elevator with Tahoma, who's wearing some green and black dress that must be about four sizes too big for her, because it's pinned at her every joint.

The elevator ride is slow and awkward, Tahoma hasn't talked to me much since we got here, but now she won't even make eye contact with me, partly because she has to look up if she wants to. When we get down to the stage room, the crowd is in chaos, trying to arrange all the tributes in order.

Silver and Miquel snicker at me when I walk in, but I try to ignore them and just stand behind Tahoma, who's interview will be right before mine. Maryn is right behind me, followed by Miquel and I can hear them whispering and occasionally kissing.

Pixie is the first one to go. Her short dress is a shade lighter pink than her hair and shimmers every time she takes a step, but it's what's strapped to her back that's really impressive. Her stylist has given her clear glass butterfly wings that her pink hair falls delicately on. I can imagine everyone around Panem drawing in a breath when they see her, already signing a check to sponsor her.

Her interview goes better than well, she answers every question with a child-like giggle that the crowd soon echoes. But among all that pink and good attitude, there's something else there that you can tell the audience doesn't see. There's a ferocity behind her eyes. Every smile her lips open a little too wide and eyes flash between the tributes. She's just waiting to kill us.

Silver gets a huge round of applause when he's done, followed just as loudly by the girl from Two. During Duke's interview, a woman from the audience confesses her love by shouting as loud enough for him to hear. He handles it expertly, yelling back "I love you too!" sending almost all the female audience into hysterics.

Now it's Tahoma's turn. The crowd is not as loud as they were for the previous four Tributes, but they still cheer for her, out of good manners. Her interview is rather boring, answering questions quietly and with only a couple of words at a time. Before I know it, it's my turn and they're calling my name.

My hands start shaking and I stand up quickly, afraid of losing my balance. My feet move robotically, like I'm not controlling them, as I walk across the stage, deafened by the cheers of the crowd. You can tell some of them remember me, but most have blank stares, just waiting for Maryn's turn.

Rouge Pickering welcomes me with an awkward hug. "Pethadrain Benson, everyone! The boy from District Three!"

The crowd cheers more, probably because they remembered who I was after she said my name. I bow reluctantly then take a seat, sitting up straight. "Actually, they call me Peth."

"Oh, Peth! How wonderful! I suppose you have to tell that to people often."

I laugh, trying to act modest. "Yeah, I guess."

"So, Peth, honey, I think we were all a little surprised with the score you got in training. Is there something you're holding back from us?" Rouge asks, it seems she sincerely wants to know what happened.

"To tell the truth, I was a little surprised too. Let's just say I had a plan to get a better number, but some of the Tributes don't exactly play fair."

Rouge gasps, along with most of the audience who then lean forward, begging me to say more. "Oh honey, who would do something like that?"

I pause, uncertain what to say, how far to go. "Well, let's just say that one of the Tribute's personality is anything but gold."

The crowd gasps, it's the perfect thing to say. Silver had just used up his last chance to speak in front of the Capitol. I got the last word and it was a kicker. Now he didn't even have his Career minions to fall back on. Miquel and Maryn had helped him in the past, but even they wouldn't be stupid enough to take time out of their interview to defend Silver now.

Rouge's mouth is still opened wide, her bleached-white teeth sparkling under the stage lights. "Well I sure hope your fortunes take a turn for the better in the arena, honey."

Again, the crowd claps and yells their approval. When I turn to look at them, I feel a small tug at my neck, as Eva's necklace slips out. It was so light I had almost forgot I was wearing it, but not light enough for it to slip Rouge's gaze. "My! What a lovely chain!"

"Oh yeah, it's my girlfriend's. She gave it to me to bring here."

Rouge swoons. "That is just lovely! I trust you're aiming to bring it back to her after the games are over."

"I plan to win for her and my family, bring us out of our debts."

"What a man," Rouge turns to the crowd. "Well, Peth, I'm afraid your time is up, we look forward to seeing you in the games, don't we?"

They roar and my buzzer sounds, signalling the end of my interview. That's it, it's over. I take a deep breath, it was nowhere near as hard as I thought it would be. All of the Careers glare at me as I'm walking back, but I simply turn away, they can't do anything to me, that is, until the games.

Maryn seems kind of shocked during her interview, the only thing she's got going for her is her low-cut dress. Miquel fares better with the audience, ramping them up by talking mostly about his love for Maryn and how he plans to kill people during the games. The rest of the tributes are nothing special and the audience starts to get a glazed look in their eyes. I'm glad District Three is so early in the list, they probably wouldn't have taken in anything I said had I been any later in the broadcast.

When the show stops taping I leave as fast as I can, jumping into an elevator with the Tributes from Twelve. I get back to our floor and wait for Rio to arrive. Puma comes first, telling me he's been called to a meeting so I might as well go to bed. I nod to her and crawl into my room, changing my clothes without turning on the light. I don't want to see my face, after all, tonight may be my last night.


	8. Bloodbath

It had taken me hours to get to sleep, so when Rio rouses me in the morning, my body screams in protest. Lucky none of my muscles are sore from working out in training, I'm going to need all of them today.

I feel cold all over, anticipating what horrendous form the arena could be in the shape of. Last year's was a forest, so it probably won't be one of those. They haven't had a desert in some time, maybe that's the route they'll take. But then what will I do for food? I spent hardly any time at the stations for food, maybe I should have gone there on the last day of training.

I'm not ready for this.

I'm shaking.

Rio notices my worry and sits down on the bed beside me. "It's going to be okay, there's no point in worrying now, you'll just psych yourself out."

I have nothing to say, I don't know what to do. I'm scared, confused, worried, I don't even know where to start. "How was my interview?" I manage to stammer.

"Perfect. The only issue now is that Silver isn't going to like you very much. Run away at the cornucopia, don't get anywhere near him, or anyone else for that matter."

I nod, it sounds simple enough, just run away. I'm good at running, I should be fine.

"We have to go now. Don't worry, Kandy has your clothes waiting with him, you don't have to change right now."

I laugh. "That's a comfort."

In the living room, Tahoma is waiting for me with Puma, not a big surprise that she's crying again. They stand when we enter and follow us to the elevator where Rio selects the floor we need to go to. This time instead of going down, we travel to the roof, making my stomach lurch. Three hovercrafts are waiting to load tributes and suddenly I panic, I'm probably going to be on a hovercraft with the kids from One, Two, and Four.

Rio turns to me, he has to shout to be heard over the wind on takeoff platform. "Don't worry, at the meeting last night I arranged for you to be put on a hovercraft with Five, Six, and Seven."

Tahoma looks almost as happy as I do. Rio and Puma turn us away and we walk briskly to the hovercraft. Everyone else is already inside, so Tahoma sits next to Rose and I settle down beside Ellis. He doesn't look at me and I don't look at him, too afraid that I'll see him lifeless and cold. Will he kill me? Will I kill him? Will we be in a final battle together and barely murder each other, the victor's own life hanging by the thread? That always seems to happen, if it happens this year, I'm almost sure I won't be a part of it.

I might die today.

The hovercraft lands and they inject us with trackers that leave small, hard bumps in our forearms. I get lead to a small, echoey room and am greeted by Kandy, who's still managing a smile.

He holds out his arms and I walk involuntarily into them, finding a comfortable place I would have been too proud to enter just days ago. "You're very brave Peth, you're going to do alright."

"Thanks," I mumble, jaw chattering, even though it's not cold. It's hard to believe him when I can feel death so near.

"I haven't seen the uniform yet, shall we check it out?"

I nod and he opens the closet on the far side of the room. Two hangers hold beige, loose pants and shirts that fit loosely on my body.

"They're not meant to keep you warm, so I bet that arena's going to be pretty hot. And the fabric's made to reflect sunlight; I bet you're going to be in the desert."

So I was right, a desert. I am going to die in a desert.

"Thank you Kandy, for everything. You've uh, helped a lot," I stammer.

Kandy grabs my arm. "I'm glad. Just take things one step at a time, you're a smart boy, you'll be okay."

"Those pedestal mines are starting to sound awfully tempting."

"Don't even think like that. You have just as much chance to win this as Silver does." Kandy looks into my unchanging eyes. "Look at that chain around your neck. Eva wouldn't quit, she wouldn't let you quit."

I nod, looking at Eva's necklace. Suddenly a buzzer goes off and Kandy directs me to the clear tube in the corner of the room. I step inside and it seals instantly.

_This is it, no turning back. _

The tube rises and I close my eyes, fearing what I'll see. It stops and I open my lids, taking in the landscape that unfolds around me.

The cornucopia shines white-hot in the sun, resting atop a fine blanket of white sand. For miles, a thick, deep green jungle stretches uphill towards a sharp cliff. I can't make out what lays at the bottom, but I'm sure it can't be good.

I turn quickly to check if more jungle is behind me, but instead I gasp at what I see. What looked to once be a magnificent ocean is dried and cracked under the heat of the sun. A powder-lined wasteland stretches out past the distance my poor eyes can manage. No creatures moves on its lifeless surface, only cracks filled with fine, white powder trace it to no end.

Thirty seconds left.

I look for Silver. He's almost all the way across the circle from me, along with Maryn and Miquel. Tahoma and Rose surround me, which means we must be organized in order of training scores. It's great for me; I'm not near any threats.

Fifteen seconds.

I search the ground around me frantically, squinting to see what's close by. Inside the Cornucopias are most of the good weapons –including all of the swords. I can't go in there, not with Silver so determined to kill me, so instead I look at the items closest to my feet.

Ten seconds.

A couple yards away there's something that looks like a weapon, it's long and looks to be metal, so I set in my mind to go after that. The jungle has to have quite a bit of food and I'm sure there should be water, my first worry is to protect myself, I should have quite a few Tributes coming after me. I might have to fight some off to get that weapon, but it will be worth it.

I hope.

Five seconds, this is it. I could very well die in the next five seconds.

Four.

Three.

What does death feel like?

Two.

Who will kill me?

One.

Will I ever see Eva and Mattie again?

Boom.

I sprint, my limbs running on their own control. Tahoma and Rose don't catch up to me, but I can see Ellis out of the corner of my eye.

We reach the weapon at the same time. It's a baseball bat, long, metal and hard. I go into autopilot and kick Ellis in the face, blood starts flowing from his nose instantly. He gets back up and lunges at me, but I already have the bat lifted and swing it at his head with such a force that is sure to have shattered his skull, sending him sprawling on the ground before me. My swing was sure to make a noise, but my ears have stopped hearing, horrified by what I just did.

I look up to see the other gory scenes before me. The cornucopia is still fairly far away, enough so that anyone fighting there is too far from me to be a threat.

A flash of pink as Pixie runs from the Cornucopia's mouth, a long, thin sword in her hands. All of a sudden she whips around and thrusts the sword straight through the girl from Twelve's ear, skewering her brain. She turns and laughs, then runs over to another tribute, repeating the action. I finally understand, Pixie has a wand that she can use to kill.

The girl from Two and Miquel are fighting with swords by the mouth of the Cornucopia, they must have both tried to get the same weapon, since they used to be allies. Maryn is firing arrows around the scene, injuring some and actually killing the boy from Nine.

Duke has a collecting of spears he's throwing around, cheering every time he lands one in a body and collecting various supplies that are scattered around the beach.

The person I'm looking the most for still eludes me. I'm turning, seeing more than I would have liked to as I look for Silver. The boy from 11 beating another boy brutally, fighting over a backpack, Pixie running over to the bodies of dead Tributes, laughing in their faces and poking holes in their stomachs. Children with arrows, spears, and cuts protruding their body run into the jungle, carrying anything their broken limbs can manage.

Blood, so much blood.

Then something catches my eye. At the edge of the jungle two small girls stand next to each other, comparing their supplies and discussing their plans.

Tahoma and Rose.

Rose has her arm wrapped around Tahoma, helping my District partner to limp out of the clearing. Her leg's not bleeding, but it must be sprained, because she can't put any weight on it. They're almost there, I can imagine the relief in their hearts, almost to the jungle, almost to safety.

But someone sees them.

Like a flash, Silver darts from inside the cornucopia, a great, shining sword in his hand. In one swift movement he slits Rose's throat and casts her body aside, sending Tahoma onto the ground as well, unable to stand on her own.

I grimace, not sure if I'm ready to watch the girl I came here with die, but instead, Silver helps her to her feet, then grabs her arm violently and drags her back to the cornucopia. The girl from Two is dead, but Duke waits with a rope, then ties Tahoma to the cornucopia. She struggles, but she can't get away, they leave her to go kill other Tributes.

_What?_

I look down at my feet, Ellis hasn't moved at all since I hit him with the baseball bat. He's dead. I killed him.

My whole outfit is covered in blood, his blood. In my period of shock, almost all of the supplies had been cleared away, there's nothing I can pick up without going too close to the Cornucopia.

I see a flash of pink. Pixie's turned her attention to me.

Eva can't see me die like that. Mattie can't see me die like that.

I don't know what to do.

All of the other Tributes are running into the jungle. I don't like people, I don't like killing people. The choice is simple.

I run out into nowhere, into the dried sea, where any number of horrors could await me. I have no food or water, but I am alive and right now I am very grateful for that.

The soft sand gives way to hard, cracked Earth. It's exactly like the running track at school, if I can just keep my mind, then maybe I can hide out here until all the other Tributes are dead.

But keeping my head will not be very easy. Images flash through my mind, the faces of the tributes I just watched die, the feeling when my baseball bat connected with Ellis' face, Pixie laughing at her own brutality…

Pixie, she was following me.

I whip around to check for her, but lose my balance and fall straight on my back side. Thankfully, I see no one, but the main island is still in view, as well as the Cornucopia on its beach. I can't see any blood, but I know it's there, almost all of the sand will be stained scarlet by now, drenched with the lost life of my fellow tributes.

I look at my palms; they're covered in a fine white dust. Without thinking I taste it, only realising after that that could have been a horrifically terrible idea, but thankfully I find it to just be salt. I am sitting on the bed of an ancient, dehydrated ocean.

I stand back up and keep going, the adrenaline in my veins the only think keeping me going, with the dreadfulness of the bloodbath still fresh in my mind. I see nothing ahead of me, but I know it's better than the danger lying behind.

I run until the sky turns the same gold as the cracked ground and any signs of the island have vanished. My thighs scream, but still I feel the need to keep running, flee from my horrible memories. Ellis' blood still clings to my sleeves and I feel tempted to cut them off, but soon decide not to, both because I have nothing to cut them with and because they will provide some protection from the sun.

The only reason I've stopped is because of what I just found at the ground, in a crumpled heap at my feet.

It's familiar, but I'm not sure why or from where, a pile of purple lettuce-looking stuff that's also covered in the same white powder as everything in the dried sea. I pick it up and turn it over in my hands, then cry out, finally realizing what it is.

My first day in the Capitol, the Avoxes brought me a plate of food, this was on it.

_Could they have known? No, it must have just been coincidence. _

Either way, my stomach is grumbling, so I collect some of the plant and stuff in my loose pants' pocket, after pausing to brush it off and eat some of my own. It doesn't taste very good, so that probably means it's good for me and it seems like the only thing to eat out here.

I take a couple steps, but am stopped suddenly by the same sound of cannon fire that commenced the games. Nine cannon shots go off. Nine dead children. I killed one of them.

I think…

Even if Ellis survived, he wouldn't have lasted long, there's no way he would have made it off of that beach without someone else picking him off. I would feel bad for him if he did live, he would have to be in a lot of pain and none of the other Tributes would be very merciful.

All of a sudden I remember another Tribute, Tahoma. Did they kill her? Why did Silver spare her if he was so willing to kill Rose? I can't think, my brain's fuzzy from not getting enough oxygen and the warm scent of blood still lingering in my nostrils.

It's time to sit down.

I sit and watch the sun fall over the ruined soil, waiting for the list of the dead to appear in the sky. Before the light fades completely I set my baseball bat down facing away from the island. In the morning I will want to know what direction I'm facing, I would like to stay away from people as much as possible.

The anthem starts playing; the girl from Two is the first to appear.


	9. Undernourished and Uncertain

After the girl from Two disappears from the sky, Ellis' face shines. Next up comes the girl from Six, followed by Rose from Seven. From District Eight, textiles, the boy is dead, as well as both Tributes from nine and Cue, the girl from Ten. The image of the massive boy from Eleven replaces Cue and the last picture to appear is that of the Girl from Twelve.

My whole brain is numb, I can't fathom the fact that these nine children are dead. They're gone, their bodies empty, picked up by a hovercraft travelling somewhere in the skies on the way back to the Capitol. Cue, Rose, Ellis; all of them cold and lifeless. Their families will never see them again, they'll have to bury their own children.

It finally clicks with me. Slowly at first, then washes over me as a wave of terror and pure empathy. I almost start crying, overcome with feelings for people I didn't even know.

I'm not the only person here with a story, every Tribute has a family, someone or something to live for. Did Ellis have a younger sister he was so afraid to lose? What about Rose, how many times did she take tesserae?

I can understand the fear they felt, the hope they had. The only difference between me and them is that they are dead; I don't know what that feels like. Everyone thinks of kids to have simple thoughts, but I don't think my thoughts are simple. I think about everything I do, and revisit it over and over. My mind is by no means empty and neither were theirs.

Well, I guess now they're pretty empty...

The horror of my sympathy overtakes me, so I settle back down to think about what happened at the Cornucopia.

I remember seeing Miquel fight with the girl from Two, he must have killed her. I killed Ellis, so his death is not a mystery. I saw Pixie kill the girl from Six, and Silver slit Rose's throat. The boy from Eight was next to show up, but I can't remember seeing him or the girl from Nine at the Cornucopia, but they're dead too.

Duke killed the boy from Nine. Miquel slaughtered Cue. I don't know what happened to the boy from Eleven, but vividly remember Pixie stabbing the girl from Twelve through the ears.

That's it, nine dead kids. I can account for most of them, but it still doesn't give me complete satisfaction, because Tahoma didn't appear. I know she's still alive, being held captive by Silver.

I lay down to look at the stars and think, but jolt back up again suddenly as my mind comes to the conclusion of why Silver didn't just kill my District partner.

He wants to torture me.

Tahoma is the person I was closest to, even if we didn't really know each other. I chose to stay away from everyone, but I could never get away from her. What if he's just keeping her around to keep her in pain, hoping that I might hear and come to her aid.

Would I? I didn't know her back home, but I still learned quite a bit about her while we were at the Capitol, we were under such pressure that our true colours really came out. I saw her cry, showcase her kindness when she spent all her time with Rose. Tahoma Rider is the only person I know anything about, but the only impression I gave her about me was that I was rude, arrogant, and mean.

I was mean to her, she doesn't deserve to suffer for me. If I ever heard her pained sobs at the hands of Silver and the other careers, I don't I'd be able to hold back running for her. Would it be right for me to be the person who held her hand while she died, the last eyes she looked into and the last voice she heard? I stop myself before I get too deep in thought, I doubt Silver would let me ever have the luxury of saying sorry to Tahoma.

But I still can't shake the thought of apologising from my mind. I can imagine Eva and Mattie crying as they watch me hold the girl in my arms. They wouldn't want me to do it, but surely they'd understand, I think.

Even though they're good people there's no way they could completely understand my situation all together. Even the accident doesn't compare to this. I am in a new world that no one I know has ever seen and I won't even have the chance to try to explain myself. I suppose I could try to give a speech to the cameras, but the Capitol would probably edit it out, anyways.

I lie back down again, mind twisting and curling around the morbid thoughts drowning in my brain. Are they watching me right now? Eva always has trouble sleeping when she gets stressed, so she's probably up. I glance around, checking to see if there's anyone sneaking up on me, but my poor eyes and the darkness combined give me barely any sight.

I allow my mind to relax and set my body down on the firm, dusty ground, the final touch being a smile on my lips, just for Eva to know I'm alright.

* * *

The sun is a mere droplet of honey on the heat-baked ground when I awake in the morning. My stomach groans, the seaweed I had the previous night not enough to fill me over the night's dragging hours. I search my pockets for any of the food I may have left and gnaw on the salty leather while I watch the sky morph from orange to pink and eventually melt into deep blue.

No cannons went off in the night, but I'm sure some of the Careers will be out this morning searching for child sacrifices to satisfy their lust for spilling human blood.

I glance up into the sky, where the dead Tributes appeared last night. There are no cloud and the sun is already beating down on me. I'm by no means full from the seaweed, but I don't think I should eat anymore, just because of the salt content.

My legs are jittery, I need to move. I stand slowly, allowing my spinning head to settle before I start walking. I knew while I was running out here that the chances of finding water would be slim, but it is an ocean, maybe I can dig down and get to water, or mud I guess.

After a couple minutes I decide I'm going to keep going away from the island and take my chances with the dry sea bed. I don't really have any reasoning, except for the fact that I don't want to find Silver.

After a few minutes I come across some of the same seaweed and collect it in my pockets. There's quite a big patch of it, so I take as much as I can and try to walk straight away from it, that way I can find it again if I turn around.

As I get further and further from the island, more black splotches appear on the horizon, all turn out to be more of the same dried food. By noon I've filled up, but salt lingers in the corners of my mouth, I need to find water soon.

Sweat lines my back and chest, it must look terrible for the cameras. I wonder if they're telling Panem whether or not there's water ahead? I start to imagine Mattie screaming at the TV for me to turn around, so I push the thought out of my mind and keep forcing by legs forward.

One more step, one more step, one more step. A cannon shot, hmm.

I'm about ready to collapse until I spot something ahead. It's not black, like the mounds of seaweed, but it's also not flat and shiny like water. Mustering all my remaining strength I jog forward, the thought of something other than sand and salt unbelievably tantalizing.

When I get to the mysterious object I rub my hands along the smooth surface of it, trying to take in the sight of what I just found. Before me is a giant fish skeleton, all the meat stripped off and the bones hard and brittle from months, maybe years of lying in the sun.

The only reason I know about fish is because of my mother's love for it. Once a month, before the accident, she would bring home a fish and cook it on a cedar plank. I thought it was alright, but my father would always moan about how much he hated it.

This, of course, was much larger than any fish my mother ever bought. Its just as long as me, if not longer, with a cylindrical body and large, fierce skull. Although, the crowning feature are its teeth, rows of razor sharp bone lines its upper and lower jaws, making me suddenly happy it isn't alive and chasing me.

Without even thinking, I lift my baseball bat and crash it down on one of the ribs, the same eerily-satisfying feeling as when I attacked Ellis courses through me. The bone shatters on the ground, little slivers of white falling into the cracks in the ground and dry, red marrow sprinkling like powdered sugar.

I try bending down to pick them up, but my head surges with pain, so I give up and keep walking, leaving the giant fish behind.

I really start craving raspberries. There's just something about them that would make the situation so much better. They're sweet, they've got water in them… I think?

Eva's sweet, she's got water in her. Although I wouldn't eat her, I'd just cuddle her.

I really want to cuddle her.

My hands start to get red blotches on them, every cell in my body strained by the heat. The back of my head pounds with every step and I'm so focused on the pain that I don't even notice the ground beneath me lose the cracks lining it, grow softer, and turn to mud.

I trip, my face splashing in the warm water and head erupting in pain. I don't even open my mouth to drink, so drained of energy and just glad to have the feeling of something on my skin other than pure heat.

Eventually I wrench my jaw open and find I'm sitting in a pool of fresh water, which is somewhat confusing considering I just walked on layers of salt. I don't consider it for too long and just start choking down as much as I can, feeling the hydration soak into me.

I can imagine everyone cheering for me at home, just as thankful as I am for finally finding water. Eventually I've recovered enough to sit up, but my head still throbs every time I move. I take a deep breath and look out at the water before me, needing to shield my eyes from the glassy surfaces' glare.

Water stretches out as far as my poor eyes can manage and it's all real, not any of the heat mirages I had been seeing all day. All of it is completely real, lying in a magnificent pool before me and I'm guessing I have it all to myself.

I wade out to my waist, letting the water soak into all of my pores. It stretches out for as far as I can see, but I can't swim anyways so it's not like I could get anywhere if there even was an island or something. I drop to my knees and gulp as much water as I can, still in shock by what I've found.

As I throw myself back onto the shore I realize I've just made a terrible mistake. Not only has the seaweed in my pocket re-hydrated into a mushy, slimy mess, but I also just sat on a crab. The crab is solid bone and highly resembles the giant fish skeleton I found earlier, except smaller… and more like a crab…

My thigh throbs where the crab made contact, but it's not like it pinched me or anything, its dead. Plus, almost all of my body is sore now, it only adds to the pain.

My brain still aches and I feel the pull of sleep, only magnified by the quickly vanishing daylight. As I shut my eyes though, I remember the cannon shot I heard earlier as well as my biggest stress in the arena, Tahoma.

At the time I hadn't even thought about what that noise symbolized having not witnessed the death myself, but now I'm worried. If that was Tahoma, then Silver got bored and now he would be looking for me. My mind races through different scenarios, Silver finding me and sneaking up on me in my sleep, I wander back to the island and he chases me off the cliff, every one of them ending in my death.

All in one moment the seal appears and the anthem drones on, suspense echoing in all of my veins on every note. Finally the face appears and I sigh in relief and accidentally lay right down on another crab and my baseball bat. The pain doesn't resonate though, because pure bliss is surging through me. It was just the boy from Twelve, not Tahoma, not me.

Me? I probably wouldn't have been surprised if my face had shown up. I had a teacher one year who said when you died you just wandered around the world forever and the only difference between life and death was that the living could see each other.

I mean, I could have died today and probably wouldn't have noticed it either. I quickly pat myself all over to make sure I'm still alive, then remember they didn't list me as dead just a few minutes prior, so I must still be alive.

Right, I'm alive.

I think...


	10. Count to Twelve

Eva walked home from school along the sidewalk by herself. The air seemed colder recently, footsteps louder, anyone who knew who she was looked away when she walked by. The rest of the people in District Three regarded her as just another depressed teenager, how could they know how she felt, what was going on inside her mind?

She screamed, all the time. Not out loud of course, but internally in a way that ripped her soul. Every breath was painful and fearful. She smiled though, because otherwise they'd start saying things the shy girl who flourished in the weird boy's shadow, spiralling back into her corner. She was not a regular teenage flower, where most had petals she only had whispers, mature for her age and shunned for it. They would say things and she'd be alone again. No one would see her for who she was, but at least she wasn't fighting for her life, like the boy of her dreams.

Eva counted to twelve in an attempt to calm herself down. Tears are weak and weakness is one's greatest flaw. The weak never win, they're never remembered. Peth wasn't weak, he was so independent and at least he saw her for who she was inside. No one else seemed to want to give her a chance, but he did and he never stopped trying to make her happy.

It had only been four days. Four? No, five. Five days without him that all seemed long and meaningless, but put together counted for nothing. Every night she tucked that day's hours under her pillow and forgot to redeem them the next morning. She relived the first day without him over and over again, all conversations vapid and meaningless, leaving no mark on her memory what-so-ever.

It felt wrong to walk alone. Peth's place between her and Mattie was so engraved into her mind that even though she was by herself, she still strayed to the right of the sidewalk as if they were actually there.

She had decided right after they took Peth that she would still walk with Mattie to and from school. Even though the girl was damaged, she was still a person and if anyone would understand how she felt, it would be Peth's little sister. For the first day or two she stayed true to her internal promise, but for the past three days, Mattie hadn't been going to school, so Eva walked alone.

She could have walked home with Carol, or Leila, her other friends, but even they had been avoiding her lately, too afraid that she might break down. That's what she thought at least, either that or they were scared she would go back into her introverted, strange ways. Everyone knew there was no hope, their District only ever won by chance, if the other Tributes ended up killing each other off and they were the last ones left.

She was almost home, just two more blocks and she could shut herself into her room and lock the door. It wasn't like her parents were going to try to come in, but it gave her some satisfaction knowing she could be by herself if she chose to.

However, the hardest part of the walk, the TV store, was still to come. They always broadcast the games and, ironically, it was also where Peth lived and had a job. She somewhat knew the people who worked there from visiting Peth a couple times. They knew her though and waved every time she walked by.

As she neared the store, Eva looked up, trying to catch a glimpse of Mattie, peering from her window. Again, like every day, she wasn't there. Eva would do it too if she could, hide in the darkness and never look back, but she knew it wasn't practical. People are meant to be with other people, as they taught her in school, but she never really liked people. She didn't want to admit it, but she thought she was better than them, most of them at least. It's not hard to be a better person than someone who kills other people's children.

She looked down at her feet, her pants brushing together with every step, making a sort of rhythm. She focused on the rhythm, trying to block out any other thoughts and counted to twelve in her mind, over and over and over.

Until someone tapped her shoulder. "Hey you, girl."

Eva turned around, surprized and irritated. They interrupted her rhythm and she couldn't bring herself to speak, mind still occupied by her numbing pattern.

"The games, check the games," The person panted. Eva looked up to see it was Peth's boss, the woman at least. She glanced further down the road and squinted. She was already a block away from the TV store, the elderly woman must have seen her walking by and chased after her.

The woman continued, just managing to catch her breath. "I would invite you in to the store to show you, but I think you should see it for yourself."

Eva felt every vessel in her body stop cold. _He's dead, he must be. He's dead and I missed it._

Without thinking to say goodbye she turned and fled, ignoring the pounding in her knees and the whipping wind drying her eyes. People on the sidewalk around her were blurs, emotionless, heartless blurs. A few yelled out as she pushed through them, but she just kept running. He would run for her, so she would run for him.

When she left for school, Peth was all alone. He had water, food, and no tribute was nearby. There was nothing that she could foresee killing him yet, he was safe.

So she thought.

She continued her count of twelve, repeating the numbers in her mind. Life was easy until twelve; you still had the freedom of your own decisions, but weren't pinned down by adult concerns. Twelve was a good number; it meant everything was going to be okay.

* * *

I wake up because I feel different. The sun shines on my closed eyelids, making all of my unseeing vision red. I don't open my eyes in fear of a red world, where all colour has been drained and replaced with a harsh, angry scarlet. Red is nice in small doses, but it shouldn't be one of the world's main colours like the blue sky and green foliage. If our world was red we'd all be angry and afraid to look around, plus there'd be nothing to surprize us like the pop of colour in a berry.

It also doesn't help that the Capitol's main representative is named rouge, the French word for red. It would give people something to relate her to, when in reality the only thing she should be compared to is a starved seagull.

Nevertheless I just feel strange and eventually I give in to the oncoming day. The first thing I grab for is my baseball bat, out of routine and necessity.

Then I check myself and discover why I feel so weird, I'm all wet. The water must have risen a meter over the night and what was once a small stretch of dry, cracked sand by my feet is now being softened by a thin layer of clear, pulsating water.

I groan and lay back down, not ready or wanting to move. My head still echoes with the pain of the day before and I would not mind laying here for the rest of the day.

But the water's rising.

So that's their game? Drive me back to the island. Well, lovely.

I stand up and pick any seaweed around me that hasn't been ruined by the water yet. Munching on it, I start walking forwards slowly, turning my squinted eyes away from the water to search for the island. I had been quite far from it, so I know it will take a while to get back, probably all day.

Ugh. If the water doesn't stop rising, then I'm going to have to keep walking through the night. Operating on no sleep is definitely not my thing; I had to do it once to study for an exam and completely failed it because I was too tired. This could potentially get me killed.

Its seems so easy saying it now, that I might die. It's so realistic that I don't think I fear it at all, I'm more worried about the people back home and how they'll deal with it. In fact, I feel somewhat tempted to end it all myself, but I can't do that; I've got friends and family watching.

I stop to pick some more seaweed, when something catches my eye. Using my peripheral vision I can just make out something moving behind me and whip my hollow head around as fast as I can without tipping over.

One of the crab skeletons moves sideways across the damp sand, slowly at first, as if stretching, then faster, its legs clicking as it walks. A thin layer of water laps under it and pulls the crab backward. It quickly scuttles back out of the water then turns, almost as if it notices me, and starts clicking my way.

The water pushes forward again and reaches another of the trio of crabs, waking it up from its slumber. Both of the bone crabs reach me at the same time and start picking away at my feet.

I jump, kicking them off of me. Although, they run back quickly and start actually trying to attack me with their claws. I raise my bat high above my head, and then bring it down on one of them, sending the shards of its body everywhere. This seems to have no emotional effect on the other one, so I smash it too, adding to the sprinkling of splintered bones.

Just for good measure, I destroy the other, before the water even has a chance to reach it and take a few steps back to calculate what just happened. The bone creatures come to life when the water touches them. I saw quite a few crabs, but I can deal with them easily enough. There were some fish skeletons I completely overlooked and the occasional dried star fish.

I grow cold when I remember the other bone monster I saw, the giant, killer-fish. I don't want to be in the water when it comes back to life and the water is rising faster now. I turn and run, ignoring the pain in my head, staring at the horizon to keep myself sane.

Eventually I come to the giant fish. The rib I cracked the day before is still broken, its pieces sticking up from the sand like a fence. The fish's teeth are still just as sharp and suddenly my irrational fear of it is real.

I look up; the sun is in the middle of the sky. I look back, I can just make out the water behind me. If I really squint I can see the dark mass that is the island. I'm almost there, but I don't even know if I'll be safe once I arrive.

I sit down for what I first mean to be a few moments, but it turns into at least a half hour as I wait for the water to raise closer to me. After I'm finished catching my breath, I take a couple steps backwards to the water's edge and drink, allowing myself to re-hydrate. When the waves are about five yards from the fish, I run again, not daring to look back.

However, looking forward doesn't seem too nice either. As the island grows, something else does too. At first I think it's just another part of the jungle, but when I see it moving, my pulse hastens even more. Two figures are staggering on the dry ocean bed. Chances are that they don't know about the water rising, but if I can see them, I'm sure they can see me and they just keep getting bigger and bigger, closer and closer.

I can't stop, it's either be killed by the giant fish, or take my chances with these people. Who knows, maybe they'll be just as starved and tired as me and I can pick them off easily. Maybe it will be Silver, coming to find me himself. The thought of dying is tantalising, but I know if it's at Silver's hand, it's not going to be quick.

I take a deep breath and count slowly to twelve. Eva always used to do it when she was really stressed. She'd count in her mind, then say twelve out loud, then declare that everything was going to be okay. She was always right too, everything would turn out fine.

I remember a few days before the reaping. Mattie had had a bad morning and wasn't able to go to school. Eva and I skipped first period and hit out behind the school, leaning against a brick wall in a ray of sunshine, our hands clasped and eyes closed.

"Twelve," she said out of nowhere, I hadn't even realized she'd been counting. "Everything's going to be okay."

I smiled and she laughed, everything did end up turning out fine afterwards, Mattie got better and went to school the next day. Eva was right, as always, and that's why she's perfect for me.

I grimace; I never let her know that. She knew I loved her, but she never knew _why_.

I face up, forgetting about the approaching water and the rest of Panem. I reach into my shirt and unclasp Eva's necklace, resting it in my palm and thrust my hand into the air, parallel to my face.

"Because of twelve, because of hope, that's why," I scream at the top of my lungs. Without thinking I start crying, unable to stop or lower my arm. "Because of brick walls, and sunshine, because of you, Eva. I love you."

She might not even see it, they might not even have a camera on me, but at least I said it. Someone out there in Panem knows why, why I brought this necklace over my glasses, why I love her. I'm not generally a romantic person and seeing a tribute admit his love by screaming at the top of his lungs from his death bed would normally make me scowl, but now that I'm here, now that it's me who's dying, I completely understand how they feel.

Before it's over, you want to make sure you've said everything you want to say and now I'm finished. Dying would be okay now, I think I'm ready.

My arm's still up in the air and eyes squinted shunt with tears. I can feel every link of Eva's chain against my skin and all the sweat lingering in my eyebrows. I'm sure I'm not exactly a pretty sight to behold, but someone must be enjoying seeing me like this, because somewhere in front of me, someone is clapping.

"How sweet, I didn't even ask you if you had any last words, you took the initiative to do that for yourself."

I open my eyes out of shock more so than curiosity. I know that voice and I would never forget it, Miquel.

My words lurch in my throat, but I didn't have a good comeback in the first place, so I just glare at him instead. He stands about fifteen yards away, weight shifted on one leg, his arena outfit miraculously clean and dry. Maryn smirks beside him, her arms crossed. She seems to have transformed her clothes into some sort of a sleazy body suit, complete with crop top and short shorts.

Maryn stalks forward a couple paces, flicking her dark hair over her shoulder. "Silver kept droning on about you, it got kind of annoying, so we left. We didn't think we'd actually find you out here, but your little love-cry lead us right to you."

"Oh come on babe, don't tease him too much," Miquel laughs. "He must be pretty hungry. What is there to eat out here, salt?"

I'm about to spit back a reply about finding seaweed, but remember that they're from District four, they probably already know about the seaweed and won't be impressed at all with me eating it.

Miquel looks irritated. "Not talking, eh? That's fine, you don't have to talk, you'll scream enough when you're dying."

Maryn laughs and pecks him on the cheek. I can feel my own cheeks flare up out of anger and disgust. Couples in the games make me angry, they always get farther than they're worth off of sponsor gifts and end up dying as a pair. At first I thought I didn't want Silver to kill me, but now I despise Maryn and Miquel even more than him.

I check the water level over my shoulder; it's still pretty far away. There's no way I can run past these guys, I'm going to have to fight. Before now I wanted Eva to see me, make sure I'm okay, but now I pray she's not watching, I don't want her to have to watch me fail.


	11. This is War

The main reason why I despise lovers in the games is because I often think the majority of it is just an act to get sponsors. The couple acts like they love each other when the cameras are rolling, but you can tell that the chemistry just isn't there.

I'm not sure if Maryn and Miquel are putting up a front or not, but they both volunteered and I can't see any sense in volunteering next to your partner. If my name was drawn I wouldn't want Eva to volunteer, then we wouldn't have any chance to be together, it's just stupid.

Right now though, I'm not too concerned over whether or not they're in love, because Miquel's pulling out a handsome looking set of axes and walking towards me, one in each hand.

"I hope you're not planning on throwing those, I've got a mighty talent for catching," I try to say arrogantly, but it comes out as more of a stutter. I'm lying of course, plus I'm sure if he did throw one at me it would be aimed towards my chest or head, not my hands.

Miquel stops and smiles. "I wasn't planning on it, but now that you've mentioned it, throwing them sounds like a great idea."

He lifts one of his thick, toned arms behind his head and I try to run, turning quickly. However, when I lift my foot I end up kicking up quite a bit of loose sand and salt straight into his eyes.

His lifted axe falls from his hand when he loosens his grip and goes to rub his eyes, spitting curses.

"You little rat!" Maryn howls at me, reaching for an arrow from a sheath on her back.

"No!" Miquel shouts at her, his eyes still shut, seeming to sense her actions. "He's mine now."

She sets the arrow back down and crosses her arms. Her grip is still firm on her bow and her eyes alight with fire.

I feel the same impulse coming over me as I did at the Cornucopia. Miquel dwarfs me, but at this very second, he's wounded and the animal side of me clicks on.

My baseball bat whips through the air while I glide forward. I try aiming for Miquel's neck, hoping that would be the quickest, but he moves, having suddenly regained his vision and I catch him in the shoulder.

He falls to the ground, landing on his wrist. It snaps and his face recoils in silent agony, mouth and eyes wide. Maryn, behind him looks even more shocked, her grip on her bow weakening as she takes a startled step back.

Miquel lashes out for one of his dropped axes, but I lodge my toe in his stomach, knocking him back on the ground again. His eyes squint shut in pain, but he doesn't cry out. Maryn on the other hand, is beside herself in fury, shaking with sobs. She's trained in fighting, but she doesn't seem to be doing anything to help Miquel.

Then, Miquel does something I completely don't expect. He lifts his head, face solemn and unchanged and turns to looks at Maryn. I can't stand it anymore, I have to kill him, I'm not sure if I want to, but he'll kill me if I don't.

I bring back my bat again and strike it against his skull, the familiar feel of bone against metal courses through me, giving me chills once again. Miquel's upper body slams against the ground followed instantly by a shriek from Maryn.

The cannon didn't go off, he's not dead, but he's close. There's no way he'll recover now. I can't bring myself to stare at his dented skull any longer, so instead I turn to Maryn, who's not looking at Miquel anymore either.

Instead of her previous sobbing, she has an arrow pointed at my head, any snivels from before silenced by pure hatred and rage. "You killed him. _You killed him_!"

I maintain eye contact with her, dropping my bat to its side. I'm in checkmate; I know she has killer aim. "He's not dead yet, just in pain. You can end it for him."

"Shut up!" she wails, her sensual voice transformed into an innate whine. "Shut up, shut up, shut up!"

I raise my arms in surrender, lifting my bat with them. I want her to kill him; I don't want Miquel to be in pain. "Fine, I'll do it…"

My bat is positioned to crash into his head again, when Maryn screams, for a second I think she's going to do it, kill Miquel, but eventually I realize I'm completely wrong. Her arrow is flying towards me and I have my hands in the air, unable to defend myself.

The arrow hits me in my hip. At first I don't feel it, but the pain comes moments later, a hot, ripping sensation. I look down to check it and find that it has buried itself in the skin covering my pelvis bone. I think I'll live, but it hurts, it hurts a lot. Enough that I can't even find tears; the pain is too much that it has dried any liquid in my body.

I jolt at the sound of a cannon shot, so loud and close that my ears physically pound when it goes off. Maryn wails, throwing her bow aside and running to Miquel's body. I'm startled again by a sudden weight against my heels and discover that the water has finally reached us. I have to get out of here, now.

Over many years of watching the games in loathing, I had developed a common order of actions, when a Tribute's ally dies. A list of sorts, that almost always proves true.

One: Despair.

Maryn moans on his body, holding his lifeless hand and screaming.

Two: Rampage.

She rips her sheath of arrows off her back, tossing them into the rising water. Maryn kicks the ground and runs towards the waves, still yelling in anger.

Three: Surrender.

"Just kill me too!" Maryn yells directly at me, the water reaching her knees. "Kill us both, you selfish bastard!"

I take a few steps backward; the final stage is not one I want to be a part of.

"Kill me! Just do it! Let me be with him!"

I can see the water rising, each wave licking higher and higher up Maryn's body until it reaches her waist.

Four: Death.

Maryn buries her face in her hands, face swollen and red from crying. I can still hear her murmuring wishes of death, but I start to back up slowly, clutching my bleeding hip.

Everything happens at once, a flash of bone in the water, a flick of a tail sending Maryn flailing into the abyss, then blood, lots of blood. She starts splashing and screaming, unable to get away from the giant, killer fish. Her screeches are mixed with gurgling, choking on water and her own blood.

The girl resurfaces, kicking and screaming in pain and confusion. The giant fish only appears for a minute so I can see it, sharpened white teeth stained crimson with fresh blood, empty eye sockets, and most horrifying, one broken rib. All of the ingredients of death are made so much more fearful when animated on a cage of bone. This creature is the embodiment of my dread, so baseball bat in hand, I turn and run.

I can hear her screaming behind me, the water is approaching faster now, licking at my feet. Occasionally I sneak a glance at the gore, seeing the fish, sliding through the bloody water near Maryn's body which is now floating emaciated and drained of its fluid. Eventually she stops splashing and a few seconds later, her cannon goes off.

Just like that, the lovers are dead and I am responsible. I keep running, not daring to let the water catch me, after just seeing what lurks in it. Running from the waves was tedious before, but now my pulse is racing and by the time I reach the softer sand of the island, I still feel the urge to keep going.

I finally let myself sit and turn back to the water. It has stopped right at the edge of the island, trapping us all on here with a wall of certain death. I can see bone crabs rummaging about on the beach, but no bigger creatures, the water must be too shallow for them.

The arrow still protrudes from my hip; I didn't have the heart to pull it while I was running. I'm starting to get used to the pain, but not the blood. The whole front of my shirt from the hips down is soaked and sticky, but luckily the path of gore only stains a little of one of my pant legs. I can see the cornucopia and the beach is absolutely deserted, maybe they'll be something in there that's someone missed taking that I can use to bandage the wound.

Close to the shore, the water is clear, pulsing in gentle waves that lick the beach. As the horizon continues, it turns darker blue, until it eventually melts into the sky in a seamless line of indigo. The sun has started to set and the temperature's dropping, everything is falling into routine, except for one detail.

The direction I came from is still red. Spirals of thick blood ebb with the waves, a reminder of what I just did. I killed two people, or was a factor in their death. Their families would be sitting around their televisions in disbelief and horror, but most of all a resounding detestation for me. Just like that, District Four was out of the games, neither Maryn nor Miquel would return home.

I shudder out of both cold and the realization that I don't see either body anymore. Even the Hunger Games has limits; surely people wouldn't enjoy watching the two beautiful tributes from Four be eaten by the monster that killed them. At least I hope not, for mankind's sake.

The only good thing about today is that I am alive. I made it through day three and survived an attack from the careers. Everyone's opinions and hopes for me would get better, I would get more sponsors and everyone watching at home would let out a collective sigh of relief.

But something still doesn't feel right. I reach for my neck, hoping to find Eva's necklace but receive no such luck. I dropped it.

The blood drains from my face and chest and I feel frozen alive. Eva's necklace was the only thing I wanted to be absolutely sure got back to our District after the games, even if I didn't.

I run my hands through my hair in distress, disappointed and angry with myself for losing the chain. I turn immediately and kick the ground, strolling towards the cornucopia. Unfortunately, it's completely empty; the only thing covering the ground is a thin layer of sand near the entrance that must have blown in.

The wind is picking up, amplified by the risen seas. I sit down at the back of the cornucopia, where it's dark enough that I don't have to see the blood on my uniform. After a moment, the Capitol's anthem blares, making the metal cornucopia tremble. I don't go out to look; I already know who's going to be there.

What will Silver do when he sees their faces? Maryn and Miquel did say they left Silver, but then again maybe they were never with him in the first place since Miquel killed the girl from Two at the bloodbath. Either way, I know he won't be happy until I'm dead.

I've decided it's time to remove the arrow; I'm tired of having the alien metal buried in my skin. I rip off one of my cleaner sleeves, ready to patch up the hole and clench my teeth, wrapping my right hand into a tight fist around the arrow's shaft.

One, two, three, pull.

I have to do it fast, because otherwise I wouldn't be able to do it at all. White spots cloud my vision and I'm consumed entirely by pain. All of my being works to hold back the shredding aching and it escapes me as a breath, harsh and high-pitched, an inhuman wail.

I slam the ball of cloth to the wound, in an attempt to detract the pain, but am greeted instead by a wave of fire that disintegrates into another tortured breath. I pant, emotionless, succumbed to no other thoughts but my own anguish.

When I gain the stomach to look at it, my hip doesn't look as bad as it feels. There's a lot less blood than I expected, but I know I can't let any sand get into it. I drape the damp cloth over the gash and settle down on my back, still shivering with the shock of my own bravery.

I'm just about to fall into an involuntary sleep, when I set my wrist down and jolt it back up unexpectedly at the peculiar sound of metal on metal.

Holding my wrist towards the mouth of the giant horn, I can just make out something dangling from my bloodied sleeve. Once my eyes adjust, I nearly jump in glee, held down only by the threat of sting from my hip.

Its Eva's necklace, I didn't lose it. It must have snagged on my sleeve when I grabbed my baseball bat to fight Miquel. Automatically I return it to its place around my neck, only realising how I missed its absence once I feel the cool silver against my skin again.

I laugh; it's like a lame lesson in English class.

A symbol, that's what they called it. This necklace is a symbol that Eva is still with me. I haven't lost her yet.


End file.
